


Blood and Magic

by ryulabird



Series: Life and Magic [1]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Always listen to Hermione, Crossover, Gen, Harry would prefer if everyone just left him alone, Harry-centric, Vampires, but not for lack of trying - Freeform, not much romance goes on here, nothing ever goes right, this is more involved than it should be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:17:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 56,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3529091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryulabird/pseuds/ryulabird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has problems after the war, so he moves to the States, where everything is muggle and dull and perfectly normal. Except for the thestrals he brought with him, and the vampires who keep showing up around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I finally decided to just move this fic over to AO3, I realized if I kept waiting for what I wanted I'd never get around to it, so here we are. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Fic begins after the Battle of Hogwarts and before Guilty Pleasures, but if you don't know what either of those mean, don't worry about it.

  
Chapter One: Moving

 

"Well," Harry glanced from the collapsed barn to the partially dilapidated farmhouse. "This… will take some work."

The sales rep fidgeted tiredly behind him. He'd made her take him all over and around the city, turning down every house, apartment, flat or summer home she'd had on her route. This was literally the last property in her file and there was really no hope that he would buy it. After passing over a fully furnished mansion with a pool and 20 acre property, there was no way the odd British man with a supposedly large wallet would go for an abandoned, desolate property in the middle of the woods, an hour's drive from the outskirts of the city…

"Hmmm," Harry tilted his head as he watched a few more shingles fall off the slanted roof. "This is the last property you have? How much did you say it was?"

"Fifty-five," the realtor said shortly.

"That's in thousands, right?"

"Yes," she sighed. She was only waiting for the man to pass this place up too, so she could go home and call the whole day a waste.

"Well, I suppose that's not too bad considering how run down it is," Harry thought out loud.

The realtor huffed quietly to herself. Nearly fifty acres of land even with a broken down property, only $55,000? That was due more to the location- in the middle of the woods, at the end of a dirt road, and miles from the nearest paved street, with the most convenient access to the city taking you in a giant loop around a nearby preservation. After all, these days people had a tendency to just scrape a property and build their own. She really couldn't wait to get home and take a bath; and to think, the day had started out so promising, with such a handsome and rich client….

"Well, alright, I suppose this'll do," Harry turned from watching the old farmhouse collapse in on itself to nod at the woman behind him.

"Wh-what?" she asked in confusion.

"I said I'll take it. So, where do I sign and who do I make the cheque out to?" Harry replied cheerfully.

The sales rep stared at him. "Y-you want to buy it?"

"Sure," Harry shrugged. "I like the woods, and it's not as bad as it looks, really." Behind him, a few more shingles fell to the ground and one whole corner of the roof sank a few inches lower.

"O-okay…"

And that was how Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, Most Eligible Bachelor (as voted by Witch Weekly), and most famous wizard in the world, moved to America.

* * *

Nearly three weeks later found Harry busy moving furniture and such into a slightly more habitable farmhouse-- meaning the roof was no longer in danger of falling in and the walls could withstand a high wind. Harry had worked hard on fixing the place up without spending an outrageous amount of money-- meaning he did a lot of it himself. Three weeks was about the time a contractor had given him for the full fix-up to be done with a team of professionals working, but Harry had managed to do almost as much work in the same time-- meaning he'd cheated and used magic.

Harry decided that so long as the work got done, it didn't matter how it happened. Besides, what fun was getting to do magic out of school if he didn't take advantage of it?

Of course, that wasn't Harry's only reason for doing so much by himself with magic. He'd needed to attach spells and wards to the house as well, and the books he was using all agreed that home protections worked better if they were laid down as the building they attached to was built, rather than being added on later. It was too late to seep spells into the foundation, but Harry did the best he could digging around the house, replacing walls, relaying floors, and re-shingling the roof himself after a construction crew put up the framework.

Once that was done with, Harry moved everything he needed in and turned his efforts to the barn. It was half the reason he'd bought the place. The reason Harry had decided to leave Britain was because he had a few unexpected... pets. Thestrals. And one thing the dark winged horses preferred was a forest. One thing Harry preferred, if he had to live with the creatures, was a remote place to keep them.

He didn't particularly mind having the thestrals with him, they were alright, really, and the four that had decided to tag after him were trained. But an unfortunate side affect of having the creatures show up at his London flat, was most of the wizarding world crying death and doom once they  
heard he was being stalked by the ill-omened beasts. And then receiving several hefty fines from the Ministry for not properly charming the thestrals so muggles didn't notice the dead-looking winged creatures. Then, once he had, the muggle government had given him several hefty fines for having four horses in an area that didn't allow them.

It was essentially a no-win situation, and when rumors started up about simply exterminating the "wicked creatures following the poor Savior around", Harry decided it would be best to go off where no one knew him, and where, hopefully, no one knew what a thestral was either. The only place that fit those criteria was America. Or, certain parts of the Americas, to be exact.

The reason for this was due to the era of European colonization. When Europeans first came to the so-called "New World", many local wizards, already wary of stories of European witch burnings, banded together and established "safe-areas" with powerful wards against muggle invaders. The majority of these areas were scattered throughout the southern continent, as the magical groups there were already largely united, culturally speaking. The safe havens on the northern continent unfortunately weren't fully established until the late 1700s due to fighting between different tribes, and so, they ended up being mostly on the western half of the continent, the local people having already been forced out of the east. Then, when European wizards began to immigrate to the Americas, they mostly stayed in the areas claimed by European muggles. Meaning they stayed almost exclusively on the eastern coasts.

As wizarding communities established (or re-established in the case of the local wizards) themselves, magical governments set up only in the areas inhabited by magical people. The indigenous magical people formed their own nations on the western side of the northern continent (or throughout the southern continent in one case, forming the fourth largest magical nation in the world) and the immigrating magical people formed their own nations on the eastern side.

What this meant for Harry, was that there was a large swatch of land, following the Mississippi River all the way from the source to about a hundred miles north of New Orleans, that had no witches and wizards at all.

It was for him, in a word, perfect.

No one would bother him about being the "Savior of Wizard-kind", no one would cry over how he was "such an unlucky boy" to have survived Voldemort only to fall prey to thestrals, and, out in the middle of nowhere, he wouldn't get fined for having horses-- normal ones or winged omens of death.

Now he only needed to fix up the barn so the thestrals would stop wandering around the forest, terrifying the local bird population.

* * *

"No, Hermione," Harry sighed tiredly. "I'm not having any problems. America is really nice. Peaceful."

"You mean there aren't any witches or wizards around to bother you!" Hermione's voice came exasperatedly over the phone. She and Harry had been keeping up long-distance calling since Harry found out he couldn't have a floo installed in his new home. "Too far from the main network" was the excuse given. Ah, well. Harry thought having muggle telephones installed was much more convenient-- no one could randomly walk in during a call, for one thing.

"Yes, and that's what makes it so peaceful here!" Harry told her.

"I'm not so sure though, Harry," Hermione said. "I saw the news from the muggle States. You live in St. Louis, right?"

"Well, just outside of it, technically." He had a bad feeling he knew what news she was worried about.

"You haven't run into any vampires, have you, Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Harry sighed. He was right. "No, Hermione, I really don't think they have any reason to come see me--"

"Oh, but this is a big change, Harry! There are so many more of them in America now, and they can move about however they like, and who's to say they won't go about telling other people's secrets?"

"I thought only wizard vampires knew about wizards, Hermione?" Harry said in an effort to calm her down before she ran off to one of his other friends about this shocking new development. Honestly, why did her parents have to let her use their phone and their computer? The wizarding world was so cut off from the muggle world that it had already been two years since the "new" law Hermione was worried about passed. Harry had only found out about it because he moved to America, and now, unfortunately, Hermione had discovered it as well....

Vampires had been declared legal. Harry wasn't entirely sure what they were declared beyond that-- they didn't have the full rights of citizens, and so far there were too many confusing court cases debating whether they were legally "alive" or not-- but they were now considered people. Which meant they could walk about in, well, not in broad daylight, but at night, and they couldn't be randomly killed without a court order of execution.

The most surprising thing about the whole affair, as far as Harry was concerned, was finding out muggles had known for the last fifty years or so that vampires were real. Werewolves too, and witches... although they were weird witches that didn't seem to do much, but they had magic, so surely that counted. So, why was the wizarding world still behaving as if all things magical were a huge secret that must be kept from muggle eyes at all cost?

"Well, yes," Hermione admitted. "But, they can still sense wizards, Harry, even if they don't know what they are!"

"Right, so none of the vampires around here know what I am, or what to look for. Besides, I don't exactly socialize much, Hermione, so I still don't see what the problem is."

"But when they were hiding from muggles, they were careful about investigating anyone that felt odd, in case that person turned out to be a vampire hunter! Now, they don't have to hide, or worry about getting killed, so they might seek you out because, because, they smell you or something!"

"Are you saying I smell bad, Hermione?" Harry said jokingly. "Can you smell me all the way in England still?" he laughed.

"Oh, that's not what I meant!" Hermione huffed. But Harry could hear the smile in her voice and knew he'd succeeded in calming her down a bit.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Harry said soothingly. "I am careful. I stay on the farm at night and you visited me a month ago, you saw what a good job I did on the wards."

"But they weren't specific to vampires, Harry-"

"No, they were specific to harm." Harry reminded her. "Anything that tries to harm me or anyone in my home, whether they're a vampire or not, will not be able to pass them. I think that's a mite safer than something specific to just vampires."

"But, you could layer a new ward in, and then you'd be even safer, Harry-" Hermione tried.

"You know, you've been going on about vampires for a while now, but you haven't mentioned werewolves yet," Harry drawled.

Hermione sniffed. "I don't have a problem with werewolves, Harry. It isn't their fault they're cursed. Vampires, on the other hand, feed on human blood by choice!"

"You didn't seem to mind the vampire at Slug's party back at school," Harry said teasingly.

"Well, I had other worries on my mind at the time," Hermione said haughtily.

"Yeah," Harry laughed. "Like running away from a different pest that wanted to suck on your neck."

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, sounding utterly scandalized. Harry laughed again and quickly apologized.

"Sorry, sorry," he said between breaths. "I couldn't resist. You sound so worried about vampires, but the one time you were actually in a room with one, you acted as though he was as noticeable as a gnat on the wall!"

"Well," Hermione coughed. "It couldn't be helped. McLaggen was absolutely unbearable. Besides, Sanguini was a wizard vampire."

"Who?" Harry asked, startled. He'd meant to get Hermione off track in her worrying, but now he didn't know what she was on about.

"The vampire, Harry," Hermione stressed. "The one at Slughorn's party, he was called 'Sanguini.'"

"Oh. You remember that? You spent the whole night ducking McLaggen under tables-"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Harry!" Hermione interrupted him. "Stop trying to distract me! Sanguini wasn't as much of a threat to us because he and we were all wizards!"

"Actually, you're a witch-"

"Harry!"

"Right, sorry. You were saying?" Harry said sheepishly.

"Vampires who used to be witches or wizards are different than vampires who used to be muggles, Harry! Just like werewolves that are witches or wizards are very different from the muggle kind! You know that!"

Yeah, he knew that. It had been mentioned in several DADA texts that a witch or wizard's magical core tended to interfere with how vampirism or lycanthropy affected them. Sometimes they could lose their magic, like Greyback had, or sometimes they could avoid "catching" the full curse, like Bill had. But no matter what, they would never be affected by the curses the same way a muggle would be.

Which was why bringing up the vampire from Slug's party didn't dissuade Hermione. He had been a "wizard vampire." Which meant he had originally been part of and choose to remain a part of the wizarding world, and therefore followed wizard law. Of course, there were supposed to be other aspects that were different. For instance, "wizard vampires" tended to be solitary, while the muggle kind seemed to go about in flocks or something. But perhaps the most important difference was that "wizard vampires" never lost their minds to bloodlust. The muggle kind not only did, but seemed to enjoy it. For werewolves, the opposite seemed to be true, at least, according to Remus.

It was that susceptibility to bloodlust which made Hermione push him to add wards against vampires to his farm. Muggle vampires simply couldn't be trusted to keep their fangs to themselves, and something about magic attracted them. But even so, Harry found he couldn't be bothered to worry about it so much.

"You do know they all like being legal, right?" Harry told her. "If they go around attacking people, they'll lose that."

"And what happens if you defend yourself, Harry?" Hermione said forcefully.

Harry blinked. "Well, I'll come out alive, won't I?"

"But what will the muggles do?"

Realization struck-- Hermione wasn't worried about vampires, not really, she was worried about Harry being alone with muggles....

"They won't know I did anything, Hermione-" Harry raised his voice to keep his friend from interrupting him again. "-I'm not like the magic-users they know about. If worse comes to worse, I'll contact the closest magical government and request some Obliviators come out to help me, alright?"

"What if they kill you first?" Hermione asked quietly. She'd been horrified when she'd first found laws dictating how "witches" were to be treated if they used magic for force- even to defend themselves. It had been a personal mission of hers before, to try and prove how outdated the Statute of Secrecy was in the modern era, and she had been ecstatic at first, when she discovered that muggles everywhere already knew about certain types of magic. America in particular seemed to be ahead of the rest of the world in granting the known magical peoples rights and protection under the law.

But a closer look revealed that the laws only took into account magic done by occultists of varying flavors and that any use of those powers that infringed on another human being's freewill or right to life would earn the offender an instant death sentence. Even if the magic user was defending his or her life against an attacker. The whole thing had been a huge let down for Hermione. She hadn't wanted to think that the witch burnings that inspired the Statute could ever happen today, or to her. But current events proved that wrong.

"They won't," Harry said resolutely. "I won't let them. Don't worry so much, Hermione. I'm being more careful than you think."

"But you're all alone there... The closest witch or wizard to you is nearly four hundred kilometres away!"

"Remember when that used to be the selling point of living here?" Harry said lightly. Hermione chuckled quietly.

"You won't move back?" she asked softly.

"No. I do rather like it here. It's quiet, no one knows who I am-- if I want, I can go weeks without seeing anyone at all!" Harry smiled.

He'd wanted a secluded home to keep the thestrals happy and had thought he'd be apparating to the city every day to keep from going stir crazy. But it turned out he enjoyed the quiet life as much as they did. The only thing he needed to stay content in his new home was to give himself work to do. He'd started by planting a garden. The garden grew into a field and somehow the cost of raising pigs and goats to feed the thestrals became cheaper than buying meat off someone else. Even with magic, he was kept busy taking care of everything, and somehow, Harry found this new lifestyle actually made him happy. When his friends came to visit him a month ago, they'd barely recognized the cheerful farm-boy he'd become. But Ron had offered him some of his family's chickens because "fresh eggs can't be beat."

"Besides, with the wards I've got up and the thestrals in the barn, there's not much that'll bother me," Harry added happily.

Across the line Hermione sighed. "Fine then. But I do still wish you were closer, or at least had a proper floo."

"Hey, I've submitted a request to designate the field behind the house an international apparition point. Who do you think that's for?"

"Will they actually approve it though?"

"Hmmm," Harry thought. "Probably not. It's too far from the borders of any of the magical nations on this continent."

"You're too far from anywhere," Hermione muttered.

"Oh, it's not as if it's far in wizard terms!" Harry huffed into the phone. "It takes you, what? Half an hour tops to get here from London? And that's only because you have to stop at the U.S. Ministry for customs before you pop over here!"

"If you moved back here, it would only take a moment to pop over," Hermione said sweetly. "And you know how hard it will be for me to travel when the baby gets bigger."

"Yeah, but that'll only be for a few months."

"But once it's born, I won't be able to take the baby Side-Along until it's three or so. How will your godchild visit you?"

"I'll visit, and you know it, Hermione," Harry said sharply. "Not fair, guilt-ing me with babies."

"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all.

"I'm not moving, Hermione. I like it here," Harry sighed. "But I'll think about adding more wards to the property. And muggle-repulsion charms."

"Really?" Hermione said hopefully. "I suppose that's enough... I just want you to be safe, Harry. It really scares me to think what people there might do to you if they find out you're a type of wizard they don't recognize."

"Actually, just finding out I'm a wizard would bother them," Harry said with a snort. "They tend to call everyone who does magic 'witches' out here. Something about all magic users being related to Wiccan religion somehow."

"I thought there were voodoo witches and animators there too?" Hermione asked in confusion. "How are they related to Wiccans?"

"I haven't a clue," Harry shrugged, even though he knew Hermione couldn't see him. Maybe floos were better for some things. "I think it's just an easy label to use."

"Well, do try not to get involved with any of that, alright?"

"Get involved? Me?" Harry joked. "Not a chance, Hermione. I like the quiet life too much."

"Really, Harry."

"I promise, no vampires, no occultist witches, no were-anythings, no trouble," Harry vowed. "And I'll see you for Christmas."

"I'll call again before then!" Hermione reminded him.

"`Course," Harry said. "You should bring Ron and the others with you next time. Whenever any of them tries to call me by themselves they end up phoning Canada or disconnecting part way through."

"Part way through?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"You have to teach your husband to stop fiddling with the buttons once it connects," Harry said dryly.

"I had a hard enough time convincing him to stop shouting," Hermione said awkwardly. "It's embarrassing bringing him to my parents' to use the phone. My mother keeps asking me why I married him."

"She's only teasing you," Harry said. He'd seen Hermione's mum interact with Ron before. The woman really seemed to enjoy flustering him.

"Tell that to Ron. He keeps worrying that he's not being a proper husband every time she says something like that."

"So, it'll keep him trying, from now until you're both old and ugly!" Harry grinned. He rather enjoyed when Hermione's mum flustered Ron too.

"Honestly," Hermione muttered. "You're both just as bad."

"So, I'll be talking to you in a week or so?"

"Of course, Harry."

"Okay," Harry smiled. "Say 'ello to everyone for me, and bring someone with you next time!"

"Oh, very well," Hermione sighed. "Take care of yourself, Harry."

"I will, Hermione. Take care of that godchild of mine!"

"Goodbye, Harry."

"Bye, Hermione."

 


	2. Vampire Visits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is always right.

  
Chapter Two: Vampire Visits

 

Only two nights after that last phone-call with Hermione, Harry was forced to concede that she really did always know what she was talking about. He really should have put up the wards she had wanted him to as well. A vampire had come to visit him.

Harry was just finishing his evening chores-- putting the animals away and carving up dinner for the thestrals-- when he heard a rustling sound from outside. He felt the wards humming as something passed through. When he walked out of the barn, wiping pig's blood on a towel, he saw a tall, leggy woman strutting across the yard toward the house. As soon as she saw him, she angled herself toward the barn instead.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked uncertainly as the woman stopped only an arm's length away.

"You are the master of this house, yes?" the woman asked, a smile stretching her lips. Harry imagined he could just see the fangs still safely hidden in her mouth. Why didn't he listen to Hermione more often?

"Yeah..."

"Then, you are a witch, are you not?" Harry's eyes narrowed and he lowered his arms so his wand could fall out of the holster on his forearm more easily. Even if he hadn't put up more wards, Harry always made sure he could protect himself. The woman grinned wider at his reaction, and sharp fangs glinted at the corners of her mouth.

"So what if I am?" Harry asked tersely.

"I have been sent by the Master of the City," the vampire woman cooed at him. She sidled closer and leaned down to whisper in his ear. At the same time, Harry jerked his wrist so the catch on the wand holster released and the wand was suddenly in his hand. "I am a gift to you."

Harry froze. "What?"

The woman leaned into him and all but rubbed herself against his front, making Harry horribly aware that she was very full-figured and, being taller than him, the 'full' part of that figure was at about nose level. She was also wearing a very tight, very skimpy leather dress, which, when she was a possible threat walking across his yard, hadn't seemed terribly important. Now, it was more of a problem.

Harry pulled back, out of the vampire's reach and stared at her. She looked somewhat startled that he'd moved away, but covered it quickly, trying to look more temptuous.

"What do you mean, you're a gift?" Harry asked sharply.

"My master sent me to gain your loyalty to her," the vampire said seductively, leaving no doubt as to how she would "gain" Harry's loyalty.

"No," Harry said simply.

"No?" the vampire's eyes widened in shock.

"I'm not going to be loyal to some vampire I don't know just so I can have sex with you." Harry shrugged. "So, my answer is no. Go away now."

Her mouth gaped in a silent 'oh.' Harry didn't think he could have gotten a better reaction from her if he'd hit her over the head with a plank. Unfortunately, she didn't seem inclined to leave yet. He'd have to take care of that before she became violent or something. So, without even waiting for the voluptuous vampire to collect herself, Harry flicked his wand at her and sent her flying off toward the edge of his property. Once she was over them, he activated the wards to keep all unwelcome guests out. Then, he went back into the barn so he could finish butchering the pig for the thestrals.

Who hadn't bothered to wait for him and dragged the carcass out to the middle of the floor to tear apart themselves. Well, bugger.

* * *

The next day, Harry spent the time doing his chores contemplating what the vampire woman had said. How had she known that he was a magic-user? Well, actually, she'd said "the master of the house" so really he had to wonder how she had known a magic-user lived in the area. Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe he did smell.

The vampire had also said she was sent by a master... the "master of the city"... What in the world was that? The wizarding world kept better track of "wizard vampires" than it did of muggle ones. About the only thing he knew about non-magical vampires was to use crosses and fire against them. Of course, magic in general worked against them just as well, but letting them know you even had magic was like hanging a sign around your neck saying "Eat me."

Harry had thought he'd done a good job hiding his magic here, but that vampire had still known-- worse, another vampire that was in charge of her had known. It was disturbing to think that no matter how well he hid, his magic could still somehow be sensed by people nowhere near him. Was it like the Trace? Or could muggle vampires really just... smell magic? Would living in a wizard community have hidden him better? Was that why wizards in general didn't know how muggle vampires singled magical people out?

Along with this, was the problem of wondering what exactly a vampire would want with his "loyalty." He hadn't been asked for by name, and the only thing about him mentioned was that he had magic. In fact, the vampire who visited him had called him a "witch," so that meant... they didn't know he was a wizard. They just wanted a magic-user. The only reason a vampire would want a magic-user, so far as Harry could figure, was for food.

So, did that mean vampires were willing to trade sex for food? Harry had never heard of such a thing before. Vampires just attacked people and took their blood. But maybe this was how they were dealing with being legal? Instead of attacking people, they were bartering... uh... themselves?

Harry reached the end of that line of thought as he was washing the kitchen table for the third time that day. He decided to give up trying to distract himself and got his wand out to flick towards the yard. Let his spells do the chores for the day, he needed to go lie down and figure out what to do.

There was no way he was trading anything with a vampire, not blood and not... uh... sex. Right. No trading. Harry shook his head while he flopped backward on the couch in the sitting room. Start over.

No deals with vampires. There, that sounded good. Covered all the bases. Next... Harry blinked as he stared at the ceiling. The vampire that visited had been sent by another vampire that wanted a deal.

He needed to find out what a "master of the city" was. Before more vampires were sent as "gifts"... or something worse.

* * *

The best place to find vampires in St. Louis, according to the tourist guide books, was to head to the District, once known as the Riverfront. Harry spent about an hour before dusk simply walking up and down along the river trying to figure out which area that was. He probably would have found it more easily if he had taken a taxi or asked for directions, but Harry wanted to avoid connections to muggles who might become targets if the vampires' interest in him turned more violent.

He also may have been expecting the area to be neatly labeled. They had polite signs like that back in London, after all. Why not make certain there were adequate warnings for visitors? Something like "Vampires beyond this point" would be nice. At least then he would know if he was going in the right direction.

When twilight fell, Harry simply gave up and sent a light brush of magic out, trying to find where the most dark creatures in the city were. This ended up giving him the impression that the city was simply filled with dark creatures, but it seemed as though there were more cold dark creatures congregating in a certain part of the city, so that was the direction Harry headed. This eventually paid off as Harry turned from one run down street and walked into an area of neon lights and crowds.

Some of the venues along the street had posters of vampire movies, or catch-phrases from vampire novels. Tourists were wandering in groups and couples and whispering excitedly as they pointed out dark windows and bright signs. This had to be the right place. Harry set out as confidently as he could and looked about, wondering if what he needed would just pop up somewhere or if he would have to go inside one of the crowded businesses to find it.

After two blocks of hopeful glancing about, Harry sighed and gave into the inevitable. He approached a group of giggling tourists and politely asked them if they knew where he could find a vampire. This didn't get exactly the reaction he'd hoped. They all stared at him before blushing and giggling and peering at him, and Harry had been quite sure he would need to find someone else to ask, before they pointed him across the street, to a building with a garish pink neon sign.

Harry didn't really look at the building or the sign though, no, what caught his attention was the man standing in front of the building, watching over a line of people waiting to go inside. A vampire. At last.

After crossing the street, Harry marched right up to the vampire, who was an unfortunately large man with far more muscles than any one person could possibly use, in his opinion. The vampire watched him come with a trace of amusement and the moment Harry stepped up to him, he said "End of the line," and pointed down the sidewalk.

Harry glanced at the people at the front of the line, some glaring at him for attempting to cut, and smiled apologetically. He turned back to the muscular vampire.

"No, you see, actually I'm looking for a vampire," Harry said pleasantly. This only garnered a smirk from the vampire and he again pointed down the sidewalk.

"Right. End of the line."

"No, I don't want in," Harry said exasperatedly. "I just want to talk to a vampire!"

The vampire snorted and jerked his thumb down the street. "Sure, but either way, I'm on the job right now. Another time, huh?" He grinned widely and Harry heard a few of the people in line gasp as his fangs glinted in the neon light.

"No, I really need to do this now-"

"Maybe you should go find somewhere else to go, then?" The vampire interrupted him, and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders to start herding him down the stairs, away from the door.

"But I already found you, why would I need to go somewhere else?" Harry demanded as he brushed the large man's hands off him and stood his ground. The vampire blinked in startlement.

"I'm flattered, really, but I do have a job to do, and if you're that hard up, you can find someone available a few blocks down."

"What?" Harry gasped. "I-you- wait a moment! What do you think I want?"

"To be tasted by a vampire?" The vampire was smirking at him now, definitely amused by Harry's embarrassment, and giving the word 'tasted' an almost vulgar stress.

"What! No!" Harry shouted. He could feel his face turning red and was suddenly very aware of the people standing in line watching him. If the vampire thought that was what he wanted, did all of them think so too? Did those girls who pointed him here think that was what he wanted?

"Look!" He glared angrily at the vampire. "I need to speak to a vampire about the master of the city. Okay? Nothing weird!"

The vampire stared at Harry in open shock then, and he was reminded of the look the female vampire from last night had given him. He hadn't thought vampires were this easy to surprise. The wizard kind certainly weren't, so maybe it was just a muggle vampire thing.

"You some kinda reporter?" the vampire said as he flexed his muscles.

"What?" Harry asked, thrown off for a moment. "Why would I be a reporter? I just want the master of the city to leave me alone!" He glared. This was turning into more trouble than he'd thought it would be.

The vampire frowned as he studied Harry's face intently.

"Hold on a sec," was all the vampire told him before turning and going inside. Harry hoped he wasn't just running away. He hoped there wasn't more than one "master of the city" and he hadn't just drawn more attention to himself than he already had. As soon as this issue was cleared up, Harry would be placing a ward on his home for every magical creature under the sun and moon.

A minute or so later, the vampire came back out. "You can go in, Robert'll take you back," the vampire jerked his thumb at the door and took up his post again. Harry walked up the steps and entered, the angry cries of the crowd behind him fading once the door closed.

Inside, the lighting was dim and the walls were covered with heavy cloth. A tall blond vampire, Robert probably, was waiting for him before a fall of cloth that swung. Harry supposed there must not be a wall behind that one.

"Are you wearing any crosses or holy items?" the vampire asked, tilting his head down to look Harry in the eyes. Harry blinked in confusion. That seemed like a mean thing to do, to search out vampires while wearing a cross. It wasn't as though he was a vampire hunter after all.

"No, I'm not terribly religious," Harry said frankly. The vampire blinked at him, as if surprised and then turned to lead the way past the billowing cloth. Harry ducked through it and found himself in a larger room with empty tables and a long stage running through the middle. Vampires and muggles wandered around, lighting candles on the tables and arranging the bar along the back wall. Many of them glanced his way while the tall vampire led him across the room to a hallway.

Halfway down the hall, Harry was gestured into an office. The door closed softly behind him, leaving Harry to look around a fairly boring room with a white couch, a white carpet, black walls and a black desk. Sitting behind the desk was another vampire; with a white shirt and black hair, he matched the room. The vampire arrogantly gestured Harry to one of the black chairs in front of the desk. "Please, sit."

Harry looked at the chairs dubiously but sat. He'd wanted to speak to a vampire after all.

"So, what business do you have with the Master that is so very urgent?" the vampire leaned back in his chair, propping his head on a raised hand.

"I want the master of the city to leave me alone," Harry said flatly. "Do you know how I can tell her that?"

The vampire blinked slowly at him. "And why do you believe the Master of the City is... after you?"

"A vampire came to my home last night, saying she was a gift from the master of the city. I told her to go away, but she never responded, so I'm not sure the message got through clearly."

The vampire's eyes were boring into him now and it was starting to make Harry uncomfortable. "What message would that be, monsieur?"

Harry glared at him and crossed his arms. "That I'm not trading sex for anything with vampires-- or anyone! I want to be left alone!"

The vampire regarded him silently for a moment before leaning forward. "This vampire who came to you, what was her name?"

"I don't know." Harry frowned. "She never introduced herself."

"But she told you she was a gift from the Master?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Right before she started feeling me up." He shuddered just remembering that part. It had been half enticing and half terrifying and altogether creepy. "Look, I just want to make sure nothing like that happens again."

Across the desk, the vampire burst out laughing. Harry stared at him until his mirth settled somewhat and he looked up with bright, glowing blue eyes. Harry was startled he hadn't noticed how blue the vampire's eyes were until just then.

The vampire smirked and those too blue eyes were partially hidden by drooping lashes. "May I ask where you live, Monsieur...?"

"No, you may not." Harry glared at him. "I have enough problems without adding more to them."

"May I guess then?" the vampire seemed to be purring his words. Harry was starting to get a bad feeling about coming here. Maybe it wasn't too late to move back to England?

"Why?" Harry asked suspiciously, leaning as far back as his seat allowed him.

"You live to the south and west of here, on a mountain, on a farm, in a forest." As he spoke, the vampire stood and began walking around the desk toward Harry. Instinct had Harry getting out of the chair to put it between them. The vampire stalked around it and headed for the couch while Harry moved to the other side of the chair. Watching the vampire settle down to lounge on the white couch, Harry realized he must look like an idiot, jumping around chairs to avoid someone moving to another seat.

"So what if I do?" Harry said defiantly, taking a stance beside the chair. "Why does that matter?"

"Why because, monsieur, it tells me who you are," the vampire said, really making an effort to roll his voice. It was staring to bother Harry because, if he didn't know any better, he'd have thought the vampire was trying to sound seductive.

"It does?" Harry asked worriedly. The vampire leaned back on the couch, lifting a leg to lie along its length and stretching out on it.

"Why yes; you are the witch whom Theresa failed to... woo last night." He stroked a hand down the outstretched leg as he said 'woo' and Harry's eyes followed the movement nervously. What in the world was going on? "Our Master was most disappointed with her."

"Your master...." Harry's eyes widened as they snapped back to the vampire's face and a sick feeling started building in his stomach. He should have set up the new wards and then never set foot off the farm again. The vampire on the couch smiled languidly up at him as if he knew exactly what Harry was thinking.

"After Theresa came back, I was ordered to seek you out to... make amends. How lovely that you have come to see me instead." The vampire's blue gaze drooped half-lidded again and his voice went lower. "I am most honored."

"You're not going to help me tell the master of the city to leave me alone, are you?" Harry asked tiredly. The vampire pouted. Actually pouted. Harry was getting a headache.

"I am afraid I already have my orders, monsieur."

"And what are those exactly?"

"To see to your every need, in order to ensure my Master has not offended you in any way."

Harry sat heavily in the chair next to him and held his head in his hands.

"Monsieur? Have I distressed you?" came the vampire's voice again, and Harry could tell now, it was seductive and suggestive and sultry and a whole lot of other s-words that Harry didn't want anyone directing at him.

"Yeah, you have," Harry said while his palms pressed into his eyes under his glasses. Maybe if he tried really hard, he could wake up and everything that happened will have been a dream brought on by Hermione's phone call. Then Harry could set up more wards and go on living as if nothing like this had ever, or could ever, happen to him.

A touch on Harry's thigh had his head jerking up with a surprised cry, while his glasses went flying off to a corner. The vampire was kneeling in front of him, a hand on his leg.

"What can I do to make up for it, monsieur?" the vampire asked lowly, his eyes focused on Harry's face.

Harry blinked. The vampire's face was all blurry... his glasses were gone. Damn. "You could start by getting away from me." Harry cocked his head in thought. That was a little rude. "Please."

The vampire moved away until his back was resting against the base of the couch and looked placidly up at Harry. "Anything you like, monsieur."

"Stop calling me that," Harry said in annoyance. "Did you happen to see which way my glasses went?"

"Over there." The vampire gestured toward a corner behind the desk. Harry got up to look for them before the vampire had finished speaking. "I sadly know nothing else to call you-- no one knows your name, mon emeraude sorcier."

Harry jerked and paused in his search. That probably didn't mean what he thought it sounded like it meant. More importantly, the office was dimly lit and he was searching blind. Where were his glasses? After the fourth pass around the corner, feeling all along the carpet and behind the cabinet by the wall, the vampire called out to him again.

"Do you need help, mon emeraude sorcier?"

Harry sat back on his heels and glanced back at him. "You know I have magic, right?"

The vampire gave him a blank stare. "Of course."

"Cock it then," Harry mumbled, turning back to the dark corner and holding his hand out. "Accio!" His glasses zoomed out from under the desk and smacked into his hand. He put them back on as he got up and returned to the chair. The vampire was staring at him from the floor, but Harry couldn't tell what he thought of that little display. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to use a spell in front of him. The vampires knew he had magic, yes, but they thought it was the hit-and-miss type of magic the occultist groups had. Controlled magic probably looked too impressive, no matter how simple the spell was.

Harry sat down awkwardly. The vampire continued to stare up at him from the floor. Eventually, Harry coughed and asked, "You going to stay on the floor, or what?"

The vampire smiled before sweeping gracefully to his feet and falling lightly back onto the couch to cross his legs. Once he was suggestively arranged, he returned to staring at Harry.

Merlin's balls, he moves like a veela! Harry thought in shock. He didn't know vampires could do that, just look beautiful no matter what they were doing, for no particular reason. Or rather, wizard vampires probably couldn't do things like that. But muggle vampires could.... Maybe not having any magic of their own allowed the curse to bond better? Gave them more magic that way? Except most magical governments classified them as ambient magical creatures, the magic was part of their nature, not under their control.

"Uh, so, uh, who are you exactly?" Harry tried, still flabbergasted over the subtle display of magic. Maybe it was because he'd done magic, so the vampire was trying to keep things even? He'd better keep his spells to himself from now on.

"I am honored you would ask, mon emeraude sorcier," the vampire said and smiled widely, his eyelids fluttering a bit. Harry felt his face flushing and fought not to glance away. "I am called Jean-Claude," he said with a bowed head, eyes looking up through thick lashes.

"Uh, right, I'm Harry," Harry said glumly. The vampire-- Jean-Cluade-- was definitely flirting with him, he could see that pretty easily now. He'd figured out the female vampire was offering him sex in about two seconds flat, but throw a male vampire into the equation and he was about as quick as Bubber-Tubber pus. "So stop calling me names, or whatever it is you're doing."

Jean-Claude laughed and Harry flinched as he felt the vampire's voice tickling his skin. Why hadn't he noticed this before? Was the vampire not using any magic until after Harry did, or had Harry just been that oblivious? He glared at the vampire uncomfortably.

"As you like Monsieur Harry." Jean-Claude smiled indulgently at him. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. This had to be the most awkward conversation of his life-- including trying to ask Cho to the dance.

"Just 'Harry' please," Harry said while he rubbed his eyes again. What he wouldn't give to be somewhere else right now. But, he was already here, and if what Jean-Claude said was true, then Harry was right to think things needed straightening out.

"Very well, 'just Harry.'" Jean-Claude's voice made that sound somehow indecent and Harry suddenly wished he'd go back to calling him 'monsieur.' Who knew only using someone's name could make a person feel naked?

"Okay, look," Harry huffed, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feelings Jean-Claude's voice was giving him. He glared into the vampire's too blue eyes to force him to listen. "Just knock it off, okay! I just want to be left alone, so go tell your master or whoever to leave off!"

Jean-Claude blinked at him as if startled. Harry seemed to be doing that to every vampire he met but he was getting tired of it now. "Just stay away from me!" he yelled as he got up to leave the office. He should get back, wards took a long time to set up and attach to a large area, he needed to start sooner rather than later. Why hadn't he listened to Hermione?

"Wait! Monsieur-- Harry, please wait!" Jean-Claude was blocking the door before Harry had gotten more than three steps away from his chair. Were vampires really that fast? A worrying thought, considering how close he'd been letting them get.

"Why?" Harry asked sharply. He was feeling too angry now to worry about being polite. Angry at himself mostly, for being stupid enough to come here.

"The Master of the City wishes your favor-" Jean-Claude said soothingly before Harry interrupted him.

"Why does she want that?"

"You are a witch, yes?"

"Yeah..." Harry hedged. He had a bad feeling he knew what they wanted and he wasn't interested in being someone's hors d'oeuvre.

"Yet you are not affiliated with any groups in St. Louis." This was said as a fact, no doubts about it. Maybe just being anti-social wasn't enough to avoid attention.

"I don't like being bothered," Harry said defiantly. "So, what?"

Jean-Claude gave a small smile, as if he were explaining something to a particularly recalcitrant child. "So, my Master would like you to affiliate yourself with her. Your power added to hers would ensure her place at the top of St. Louis' political structure."

Harry stared at him. They didn't want to eat him...?

"You mean this... 'master whatever' made that other vampire, what was her name-- Theresa-- offer herself so that she could use me in some weird political game with vampires?" This might be a step up from being eaten, but it sounded all too horribly familiar to Harry.

"That is, how you say, the 'gist' of it." Jean-Claude was smirking again, leaning against the door with his arms crossed and... Harry couldn't quite believe it, but he was posing. So, they were back to flirting now? But why.... Oh no.

"Uh, why were you told to come to me, after I turned Theresa down?" Harry asked in dread.

"As I said, my Master wished to ensure you were not... offended by her previous offer." Jean-Claude's voice drew the syllables out in a way that made Harry think he was discussing something more intimate than they actually were. "Theresa told us you were not pleased with her advances, so my Master hoped you would find me more, appealing." His voice deepened as he leaned back on the door so his spine curved his body outward and his hands moved to his sides, allowing his shirt to gape open.

Harry felt his headache coming back full force and... oh dear Merlin, he couldn't stop staring at the vampire's chest! Jean-Claude's shirt was fluffy, lacy, white and didn't close all the way. Who wears a shirt that doesn't close? More importantly, why was Harry deciding that now was the best time to notice the pale view of Jean-Claude's chest between the folds of cloth? He really needed to get back home.

"Right, well," Harry said quickly. "Not offended, definitely not! So, no worries then, alright? Glad we straightened that out, I'll just be going now."

Jean-Claude didn't move away from the door, and Harry found himself rooted to the spot, staring at the ground so he wouldn't have to look up at where the vampire's clothing wasn't, well... clothe-ing him. He could just see, from under his lashes, that Jean-Claude was wearing skin-tight boots that went all the way up to his thighs. How on earth does he fit pants under those? Harry wondered dazedly. Isn't that uncomfortable?

"Ah, but 'just Harry'," Jean-Claude's voice floated around him and Harry flinched when he realized the vampire was actually walking toward him. "I am to make amends with you, as well as to secure the alliance our fair Theresa failed to gain. I do not think a simple 'chat' will suffice for that."

When a pale hand came into view, about to touch Harry's face, he lost it and apparated behind the desk with a loud crack. He just barely managed not to collide with the large chair there as he whirled around to make sure Jean-Claude was where he'd left him. The vampire was staring at him with blatant shock, his arm still held out where Harry had once stood. Oh, bugger....

"Okay, now," Harry said quickly, trying to gloss over his instantaneous movement across the room as best he could. "Why do you think someone would move out to the middle of nowhere?"

Jean-Claude was regarding him closely, his face no longer showing the shock he'd felt-- or the pleasant flirting. "To be alone, I suppose."

"That's right!" Harry said triumphantly. "I want to be alone, so, just leave me alone, okay?"

"Then why live so close to a city?" Jean-Claude asked blankly. "You live in a forest, true, but not a very large one. Surely someone of your power could make a home in a more isolated location?"

Harry stared at him for a moment, at a loss of what to say. Muggle-anythings didn't know about the wizarding world, of course, so the fact that Harry had chosen a location that was as far on all sides from the nearest truly magical communities wouldn't be obvious to them.

"Uh... it was cheaper?" Harry tried. Jean-Claude blinked as if he didn't know what to say now. Harry ran with it. "You know, just because I can do magic doesn't mean I can build a house by myself-" never mind the fact that he practically had when fixing the farm up "- and raising enough food for the th-horses-" Harry winced and continued quickly. "-is a lot of work! I couldn't really afford to do that if I wasn't near other people! Besides, being close to a city means being close to food stores, and it isn't as though I grow everything I might want to eat at home! Visiting shopping areas once in a while can be nice too! There are food stores and book stores and the telephone company-- all perfectly useful!"

By the end of his impromptu defense, Harry was feeling pretty good about it. Those were all legitimate reasons to live in solitude, but not so far away that he was truly alone. He had even managed to avoid mentioning other wizards as his primary reason for moving here.

Jean-Claude blinked slowly again and Harry had the sudden thought that maybe he was in shock even if his face didn't show it. Could vampires go into shock?

"You 'grow' food for horses, not 'raise' food."

It took a moment for Harry to process what Jean-Claude was talking about. Once he figured it out, all the blood drained from his face. Oh bugger, had he really said that? He knew he'd stopped himself from saying 'thestrals' but had he really implied that he was feeding meat to horses?

Well, fuck.

Jean-Claude seemed to have regained his flirtatious mask and was watching Harry's nervousness with growing amusement. "So, you live close to a city for the phone lines?" he asked teasingly. Harry stared at him blankly before bringing a hand up to rub his eyes again. Jean-Claude started laughing once more.

 


	3. Pomme de Sang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampires will follow you home if you aren't careful.

  
Chapter Three: Pomme de Sang

 

The next day, Harry didn't even get out of bed before flicking his wand, activating the charms on the house to start up the chores needing to be done. By the time he'd showered, dressed and come downstairs, the animals had all been fed and let loose, and breakfast was already on the table waiting for him. He felt bad for not doing them himself, but after last night Harry just wasn't in the mood.

His mission to convince the vampires that he wouldn't be useful to them (originally a plan to convince them he was inedible) had not gone very well at all. The reason for that could probably be pinned on Jean-Claude, who'd ignored Harry's protests and arguments, and insisted he needed to "soothe any ruffled feathers." After which, Harry had been invited to spend the evening at the club he'd obliviously strolled into.

Oh Merlin... the club. Harry groaned and shoved his plate away. He hadn't bothered to read the glowing wash of red hanging over the building before he went in it, but if he had Harry was sure he wouldn't have gone in at all. He might have noticed the sexual innuendo much sooner too. Guilty Pleasures indeed.

Harry had ended up spending over an hour sitting stiffly at a table next to Jean-Claude, drinking an endlessly refilled glass of coke and trying to pretend that naked men weren't dancing about five feet from him on the stage. A feat made much more difficult whenever said naked men decided to try and entice him to slip a bill down their pants-- not that Harry would call the strings they'd been wearing proper pants.

The only one who'd enjoyed himself was Jean-Claude, laughing every time Harry shook his head rapidly when a 'dancer' approached him. Even when Harry escaped the strip club, Jean-Claude had insisted on "escorting" Harry home, leading to an even more awkward two hour drive with Jean-Claude sitting too close next to him in the back seat of a taxi and making comments every now and then that Harry wasn't really listening to.

When the vampire had gotten out with him at his house and allowed the taxi to drive off, Harry had been worried that maybe he was going to get eaten. But all that happened was Jean-Claude walking him to the door of the house and bidding him goodnight before moving off into the darkness. Harry had stared after him until one of the thestrals, Azeilah, had nosed him, having come out of the barn to see what was going on. That woke him up enough to lock the wards in case Jean-Claude, or any other vampire, decided to come back. Then he'd gone to bed.

All of which led to him groaning over breakfast now and pressing his forehead against the table. He was supposed to get the vampires to leave him alone! Instead he went and did magic in front of them and made them even more interested! Now, even if he put up more wards to keep them away, they were aware of him and would probably remain on the lookout every time he left the farm. He didn't think anything that had happened so far warranted calling in Obliviators either. They hadn't threatened him really, and despite his spellwork, the secret of the wizarding world was still safe.

As Harry got up to set the dishes in the sink to be washed, food mostly untouched, he wondered what he could do to fix this. It was too late to avoid drawing attention, the vampires all knew he was magical, but maybe he could convince them he wasn't as useful for magic as they thought? He could try botching a few spells in front of them, see if they lost interest. Or maybe he could just come off as so boring they wouldn't want to bother with him anymore?

That was one thing Jean-Claude had kept commenting on last night, that Harry was "fascinating." So, if the vampires were interested in him because he was interesting, then even if he proved incompetent at magic they might continue to hang about. If he wanted to be left alone, he would just have to come off as the most useless, boring wizard in the whole world.

Harry sighed. He should have listened to Hermione when he had the chance....

* * *

Later that evening, Harry was again cutting up dinner for the thestrals when he felt the wards begin to hum. But this time, Harry had set them to just keep everything out, so whoever was trying to reach him was stuck on the outside, pacing along the barrier and making the wards shiver as the intruder pressed against them. Harry took the half a goat out with him and dropped it in the yard, the thestrals that followed him immediately lunging for it.

When he walked around a bend of trees on the dirt road leading from the house into the woods, Harry saw none other than Jean-Claude waiting further down the road where the wards marked the edge of his property.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked tiredly, stopping a meter shy of the barrier.

Jean-Claude smiled lightly. "I came to visit you, Harry."

"Yeah? Why?" Harry didn't want to be visited anymore. He hadn't figured out a good plan yet and decided it would be better to just avoid the vampires altogether, at least until he came up with something.

"Why, to continue our discussion from last night, of course."

Harry stared at him. "I don't remember having a discussion with you." All he remembered really, was being embarrassed and pretending he was somewhere else. Oh, and Jean-Claude talking to... well, to him actually, but surely the vampire would have noticed that Harry hadn't been responding. He couldn't be calling that a discussion!

"You wished to be 'left alone', no?" Jean-Claude flashed the slightest edge of fang as he smiled. "Don't you want to know the terms for that?"

"There aren't any terms," Harry said indignantly. "You just leave me alone! That's it! How hard can it be?"

Jean-Claude tutted and shook his head. "Mon emeraude sorcier, surely you do not think delicate matters such as these can be casually brushed aside?"

Well, yes, Harry did think that and he didn't like the implication that he was an idiot for thinking it.

"The Master of the City does not give up so easily as that." Odd that Jean-Claude didn't look particularly happy when he said that, even though he was still smiling.

"Why does she even want to bother with me?" Harry asked flatly.

Jean-Claude looked away for a bit, staring off into the dark trees around them. "Before the laws changed, we stayed hidden and avoided drawing attention to ourselves, to each other. Now, the benefits of being legal are drawing more of us here. There isn't enough room and there are too many who long for power." He turned and stared into Harry's eyes. "Many have challenged my Master in the past year and she grows tired of it. Her lands are much larger than simply the city of Saint Louis, so it is easy for new vampires to move in to try and claim a portion for themselves."

"This, sounds like a war..." Harry said uncertainly. There hadn't been anything in the muggle news about this!

"It is, rather like one, but much quieter," Jean-Claude said as he raised a finger to his lips and smiled. "If one with your power were to ally with my Master, fewer would challenger her claim. Fewer humans would be killed in skirmishes."

"Killed?" Harry jerked. "Hold on-- people are getting killed because of this?"

Jean-Claude didn't answer, only standing there in the dark, smiling at him. Harry clenched his fists at his sides.

"So, what then?" Harry changed direction. "This master of yours has too many people to fight, so she wants someone with magic at her side to do what exactly?"

"To intimidate her enemies of course."

"And would I be fighting anyone, or would it just be a bluff?"

"You would not be bothered needlessly, you would be left alone as you wish. After all, simply having a witch to call upon would frighten most challengers." Jean-Claude nodded as if agreeing with him.

"But not all of them?" Harry asked suspiciously. "Would I have to fight anyone?"

"You might be called upon to give aid once or twice," Jean-Claude smiled and stared into Harry's eyes. They seemed exceptionally blue again, which was odd considering how dark it was out. The only reason Harry could see Jean-Claude at all was because he was standing inside the wards and they were helping him see in the moonlight.

Harry thought a minute as he stared into those blue eyes. "So, how would I be intimidating people, then?"

Jean-Claude blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You said I'd be intimidating her enemies. How would I do that exactly? There're lots of witches around, her enemies could have their own." Harry watched Jean-Claude carefully. The vampire didn't seem to have an answer for that and was merely watching him intently. The blue of his eyes seemed to be glowing, even with no light around.

"The Master of the City would of course reward you for your allegiance," Jean-Claude said quietly, after several minutes of neither saying anything while they stared at each other. "Her gifts can be... most desirable."

Harry felt a shivery feeling go down his spine. He must be misunderstanding, there was no way the vampire was talking about himself as a gift... But, wasn't that exactly what the other vampire, Theresa, had said?

"Hey," Harry said, suddenly desperate to know. "You don't mean yourself, do you? As a, as a gift, I mean."

"Am I not to your liking, mon emeraude sorcier?" Jean-Claude didn't even blink at the question, or the answer. Harry felt his stomach knot.

"That other vampire... what happened to her?"

"Pardon?" Now he seemed pleasantly confused. Harry pressed further.

"Theresa-- what happened to her after I turned her down? What'll happen to you if I turn you down?" Harry asked seriously.

Jean-Claude regarded him quietly while Harry waited for an answer. "You are most peculiar, Monsieur Harry," he said at last. "But most fascinating as well." Harry frowned when the vampire only grinned up at him.

"Why won't you tell me?" he demanded angrily. After telling him so much, the only reason to avoid talking now must be because it was something bad.

"If you refuse, it will not be your concern, will it, monsieur?" Jean-Claude said placidly.

Harry just stared at him, horribly confused now. He hadn't wanted to get involved with vampires and now that he was, he felt like it would be wrong to just make Jean-Claude leave.... Harry didn't know what would happen to him then, and he didn't want anything to be his fault. The fact that he'd gotten someone else in trouble already bothered him as well.

But this was silly to worry about. After all, they weren't really punished, were they? Just because Harry refused to accept an allegiance with some vampire he'd never met? That wasn't their fault! But still....

Harry looked more closely at Jean-Claude and the perfectly blank smile he was wearing. It was... odd, to hear someone talk about being given away like some sort of object without, without looking upset. If anything, Jean-Claude looked as though he did this sort of thing everyday, like it was a chore. But he didn't really... did he?

"How many other people have you been sent to like this?" Harry asked quietly.

Jean-Claude's eyes widened before falling half-closed. "Are you so displeased with me, Harry? Would you perhaps prefer someone, fresh?" Despite the teasing tone Jean-Claude used, Harry got the distinct impression he was angry.

He winced. He hadn't meant to offend the vampire or anything. It probably would have been better to mind his own business. After all, if what he thought was true, what could he do about it?

"That's not what I meant," Harry muttered, staring at the ground to avoid looking into eyes that accused him. What could he do about this?

"Uh, well, it's sort of bothersome to have to come all the way out here," Harry started. "So, I guess the least I can do is feed you..."

Jean-Claude shifted before him, his gaze becoming a heavy weight. "Feed me, monsieur?"

Harry flinched. He was trying to apologize and Jean-Claude only seemed to have gotten angrier. "Well, if you just want to go-"

"No, no, Monsieur Harry," Jean-Claude waved a hand sharply. "By all means, feed me." As he said that, Jean-Claude opened his arms wide, as if welcoming Harry into a hug. Harry stared at him. Vampires seemed to have pretty quick mood swings.

"Er, okay," Harry said awkwardly as he sent a pulse out to unlock the wards. "Come on then." With a wave, he turned around and headed back to the house. After a moment, he heard Jean-Claude following him.

When they walked across the yard, Harry was relieved to see the thestrals had finished the goat, and even taken the bones over to the side of the house to be collected. That was lucky. He wasn't actually sure what a muggle vampire would see when confronted with a thestral. Would they see the creatures themselves, or the charm to make them look like normal horses?

Of course, either animal tearing a bloody corpse apart would be disturbing.

At the door of the house, Harry had to invite Jean-Claude in again and led him to the kitchen after closing the door. Jean-Claude seemed bemusedly curious as he sat at the table, watching Harry rummage around in a cupboard.

"Do you plan to pour something for me in a bowl, Harry? Would you like to see me lap up blood like a cat?" he whispered heatedly.

Harry turned his head as he stopped pulling things out of the cupboard to stare at him incredulously. "Wh-what the bloody hell are you on about?"

Jean-Claude laughed and Harry felt that odd magic ruffling the vampire's voice over his skin just like last night. He shivered and blinked. "Why else should you have brought me to a kitchen, mon emeraude sorcier?"

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused.

"If it is not a bowl you want, there are better places for this," Jean-Claude said lowly. "If you are preparing food for yourself, you needn't be so worried." Jean-Claude stood and came around the table to smile down at Harry, leaning against the counter beside him. "I should be pleased to take care of you... afterward." He leaned down to breathe that last word against Harry's cheek and Harry flinched, yanking more out of the cupboard than he meant to as he jerked away from the vampire.

Several boxes of cereal, a bag of flour, and the container Harry had been searching for all fell out to hit Jean-Claude and the floor. Cereal went everywhere, flour exploded over Jean-Claude's head in a white cloud, and candy-red apples rolled out of their box across the kitchen tiles. Harry coughed as the flour settled over everything, turning it all white.

When he looked up, Jean-Claude was standing perfectly still at the counter, covered in flour. Harry snorted as he tried not to laugh. Opening his eyes, Jean-Claude looked blankly at Harry before smiling back at him. "Ah, this has been an evening of surprises, hasn't it?"

"I suppose," Harry said wryly. "Sorry about that-- here, _evanesco!_ " With a wave, the kitchen and everyone in it were clean once more and the apples were returned to their box. Jean-Claude inspected a sleeve with mild amusement.

"Your shirt is white as the flour was, how could you even tell?" Harry asked with a grin.

Jean-Claude's lips twitched as he held the arm out for display. "I could certainly tell, mon sorcier. My shirt is a shade whiter than the flour was."

Harry laughed.

"Now, we have your apples, shall we find somewhere more, suitable?" Jean-Claude walked towards him, and Harry noticed as he looked up that the vampire was back to flirting and moving as gracefully as any veela.

"Huh?" Harry said, backing up to hit the table.

"You did offer to feed me, mon emeraude sorcier." Jean-Claude leaned down to murmur in Harry's hair. "Do you not intend to keep your promise?"

"Wait, wait!" Harry said quickly, sliding away and waving his hands, the phantom memory of lips brushing his scalp turning him beet red. "That's not what I meant! I wasn't planning to feed you with- with me!"

Jean-Claude turned slowly to follow him and Harry was startled to realize his eyes were actually glowing with a faint blue light. "Then do you intend for me to feed on someone else?"

"No!" Harry said quickly. This was starting to turn into as bad an idea as going to find a vampire had been. "No, no, no! I'm not feeding you a person!"

The glowing eyes flashed and narrowed. "Did you perhaps expect me to feed on an animal before you, monsieur?"

"No!" Harry shouted. "Just, just here!" He pulled the box of apples off the counter and held them before the vampire.

Jean-Claude's eyes slowly faded back to a normal blue as he regarded the apples being offered to him. Finally, he sighed. "Mon sorcier, I do not believe you fully understand the concept of feeding a vampire."

"Yes I do!" Harry huffed and he stalked forward to place the box on the table, gesturing for Jean-Claude to resume his seat. The vampire did so, but with obvious doubt. "Look, I know you drink blood, well that's what this is! Blood."

Jean-Claude blinked at Harry before taking an apple out of the box to inspect. "This, is heavier than it should be...."

"Yeah, well, blood is heavier than apple juice," Harry said snidely. Jean-Claude turned the bright fruit over and over in his hands, feeling it carefully and staring at its surface.

"This, this is a pomme de sang?" he asked with a bright curiosity. Harry was surprised at how child-like he was acting. It was only a blood-apple....

"How did you know what it's called?" Harry asked instead. Jean-Claude turned to look at him sharply.

"It is truly called that?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said uncertainly. At that, Jean-Claude began to laugh. This one didn't send any shivers along Harry's skin, rather it seemed deeper than Jean-Claude's previous laughter, more breathless. "What's so funny?"

"Ah, mon sorcier drole, a 'pomme de sang' is an 'apple of blood!'" Jean-Claude gasped out between laughs.

Harry scratched the back of his head. "Well, that's what it is, I don't see why that's so funny..."

"Oh, but there is more!" Jean-Claude turned to smile widely at him, fangs glinting blatantly at the corners of his mouth. Harry's eyes widened. "Pomme de sang is the term vampires use for their favored... donors." 'Donors' was drawn out, as if the word wasn't long enough to include all Jean-Claude wanted it to imply. Harry stared at the grinning vampire before shaking his head.

"Are you going to giggle all night or are you going to eat the thing?" Harry propped his head on a hand to look at Jean-Claude.

"Oh, I shall eat it mon sorcier. I do not believe I have ever been offered blood as unique as this, although," he trailed off as his eyelids fell half-closed. "I would still enjoy having a taste of you, Harry."

Harry jerked off the table and leaned back in his chair to glare at the vampire. "You get the apples. That's it!"

Jean-Claude merely smiled at him before turning to bite into the blood-apple.

 


	4. Vampires are Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampires only really want blood.

  
Chapter Four: Vampires Are Trouble

 

Harry watched Jean-Claude make his way through three apples before stating awkwardly that he'd be outside finishing his chores. Honestly it was rather embarrassing watching the vampire suck on blood-apples as if... well, as if they were something other than blood-apples. Harry blushed when a particularly loud moan followed him out the back door. Very embarrassing.

Walking into the barn, Harry went over to the thestrals settling down for the night, full and content after their meal. "Hey there," he said quietly, to keep from bothering the other animals sleeping in their stalls. "I gave the last of your apples away, so you'll have to wait a bit before you can have more."

The one he was petting, Therdad, gave out a low, shrill whine and butted into Harry's chest. "Oof! Hey, careful!" Harry admonished. "I'll get more, besides he's a guest." Harry thought about that. "Well, sort of.... I did invite him for something to eat anyway."

Therdad shook his head, sending a wave of silky black hair over Harry's hands. He clearly wasn't satisfied with the explanation. Harry patted him anyway and wandered off to clean up the room he'd butchered the goat in. He'd left it longer than he should have and the blood would be congealed by now. Although, looking about, it seemed that several tongues had come in to lick up as much of the cooling blood as possible. Maybe half a goat wasn't enough of an evening meal for four thestrals? Though it wasn't as if they didn't eat plenty during the day.

He waved his wand to wash up the floor and set the knives to cleaning themselves while he divvied up the remains. He'd made sure to pack away the parts of the goat he intended to eat himself before starting on the part for the thestrals (good thing too), so all he really needed to do was dispose of the bones and organs the thestrals wouldn't eat. Oh, and there were the bones that had been left by the side of the house. He'd gather those up as well and take the lot to the back of the house to be burned. First, though....

Harry got one of the smaller knives from the rack and sliced open the stomach on the table. After rooting around in the gooey wet sack, Harry's hand pulled out the prize he'd hoped to find. A bezoar. Harry grinned as he banished the mess on the table into a bucket and took the fuzzy stone over to the side of the room to place in a jar with the others. In the six months or so that he'd been cutting up goats for the thestrals, Harry had only come across four bezoars of a proper size to be effective against poisons. But after having seen the miraculous effect the things had, it was definitely worth getting his hands dirty to find them.

Still grinning happily, Harry turned from replacing the jar on the shelf to see Jean-Claude leaning against the door frame of the small room. His eyes glanced from the jar to the shining knife clutched in Harry's hand before he smiled warmly. Harry stared at him nervously and tried to tell by listening whether the knives were still washing themselves. It sounded as though they'd finished, but Harry really needed to be more careful.

With a nervous grin, Harry walked over to the sink to wash off the knife as well as his hands. Over the running water, Jean-Claude spoke.

"Will you not use magic to clean this room too? Or can you not when blood is involved?"

Harry froze with shock. He'd... he'd cleaned up the mess in the kitchen without even thinking about it. With magic. Oh. Bloody. Hell.

"Mon sorcier, are you well?"

Harry jerked awake and finished scrubbing the last of the blood off his hands. When he turned around, Jean-Claude was watching him with that pleasant smile he always seemed to have. Harry's eyes narrowed. That was really starting to annoy him.

Without bothering to answer the vampire, Harry grabbed the bucket of offal and bone, and stalked past Jean-Claude and out of the barn. As he walked over to collect the rest of the bones, Harry noticed Jean-Claude following quietly behind him. By the time they'd made it to the back of the house and dumped the refuse into an iron box to burn, neither of them had said anything and Harry was starting to worry about it.

"Er, you finished the apples pretty quick," he said, unable to think of anything better.

Jean-Claude shrugged delicately. "They were quite filling and you had already watched me suck three before you left."

Harry blushed scarlet. Why did that sound more perverted than it was? "Uh, right..."

Silence returned as they watched the embers and smoke rise out of the vents on the box. Harry really didn't do well with silence.

"I'm rejecting," he said loudly, glaring resolutely at the smoke. Beside him, Jean-Claude sighed tiredly.

"Can I not convince you otherwise?"

"No," Harry said. "I-- I don't really want to be involved in whatever it is that's going on. I like having a peaceful life."

"Are you truly satisfied with that, mon emeraude sorcier?" Harry turned his head to find Jean-Claude facing him with a disturbingly suggestive expression, his eyes glowing like blue embers. "I could make your life, more enjoyable."

Harry stepped back only for Jean-Claude to follow him. "What are you doing?" Harry asked startled. A breeze had started up, but in the summer heat beside a fire, it was unusually cool.

"I would like you to reconsider," Jean-Claude said softly. Harry flinched when the cool wind wrapped those words around him and rubbed. The air was so thick with magic Harry felt almost dizzy watching it swirl about. He didn't know vampires could call magic up like this and just, just fling it about like water. He'd never seen any magical creature do something like this before. He'd never seen magic become visible outside of a spell before.

While Harry was distracted looking wildly about at the swirling wind of power, Jean-Claude appeared before him and clutched him to his chest.

"Hey! Wait- Stop!"

"I cannot, mon emeraude sorcier." Harry felt a hand brushing through his hair and struggled to get away. The arm around his waist tightened like a steel bar. He'd known some wizard vampires could perform advanced transfigurations, turning into animals or objects or such, but he'd never heard of any type of vampire turning its body to something so hard while retaining its shape. "I need you to accept my Master's offer."

Harry gasped as the wind got colder and Jean-Claude leaned down to nuzzle his neck. "Wait a- what- I'm not going to accept anything!" he yelled. "What are you doing?"

Jean-Claude sighed next to Harry's ear. "My Master forbade me to feed on any but you."

"What does that have to do with anything!" Harry tried to shove away enough from Jean-Claude to loosen the arm with his wand holster. Both the vampire's arms were locked behind him now, as unyielding as stone.

"You offered me the blood of apples, Harry," Jean-Claude was whispering in Harry's ear as he held him. "A truly magical gift, but if I return to my Master with your refusal, she will believe the blood filling me came from somewhere else. That I disobeyed her."

"So, what? She thinks if I let you drink my blood I wouldn't say no or something?" Harry said angrily. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"She believes it though," Jean-Claude's lips parted against Harry's skin. "But then, she has not met you and seen your... unique resistance for herself."

Harry was shaking now, though whether it was from fear or fury or just the fact that the bloody wind was freezing his bullocks off, he couldn't tell. Hermione had been right to be worried, so very right.

"What do you mean? What resistance?"

"You are unnaturally resistant to us, mon emeraude sorcier." Now that Harry had stopped struggling, Jean-Claude brought one of his hands up to run through Harry's hair again. "I have never met any human who casts our power off so casually. Neither I, nor any of my people could bespell you for even a moment."

"Bespell me?" Harry asked roughly. He could stay calm as long as Jean-Claude kept talking, because if he was talking he wasn't... doing something else.

"Take over your mind."

Harry felt his insides go colder than his skin. Muggle vampires could mess with people's heads? Like Imperio, or Legilimens, or Obliviate? The vampires he'd met had tried to do something like that to him? Jean-Claude had? Why hadn't he noticed?

"Even now, with the rush the pommes de sang you gave me, you are still free of my control." Jean-Claude laughed darkly. "But somehow, mon emeraude sorcier, I must make you agree to the alliance."

"Why?" Harry snarled, frightened beyond reason at the thought of vampires toying with his mind. "Why are you so set on this? Why can't you just give up like the other one did?"

Jean-Claude leaned his head away from Harry's to look down at him, smiling disdainfully. "Oh, but Theresa did not give up, she was thrown away. Our Master punished her for failing even to speak to you."

"She told me why she came-- I said no," Harry reminded him forcefully. "I'm still saying no."

Jean-Claude shook his head ruefully before leaning down to rest his cheek against Harry's. "Unfortunately, mon emeraude sorcier, I have already failed my Master in procuring an ally for her. To do so twice will result in a greater punishment."

Harry stiffened as Jean-Claude rubbed their cheeks together. "Do you wish me to be punished, little wizard?" he whispered in Harry's ear, teeth brushing his skin.

Harry couldn't take anymore. "GET OFF ME!" he shouted desperately, trying again to free his arm so his wand could come loose. Jean-Claude had barely begun to shift his arms to pull him tighter when several shrill shrieks tore through the air and both Harry and Jean-Claude were tossed aside.

After rolling to a stop on the grass, Jean-Claude had time to lean off Harry to look around before a dark shadow dragged him further off and away from the house. When Harry sat up, wand in hand, he saw all four thestrals biting and kicking Jean-Claude into the ground, their hollow cries still piercing the air. Harry jumped up and rushed over to them.

"Woah- woah! Stop!" Harry grabbed onto the closest thestral to him, Rigel, and pulled the shrieking creature away. Rushing into the space made, Harry waved off the other three and backed up with them to watch Jean-Claude climb shakily to his feet. Blood dripped down his arm and stained the front of his torn shirt, looking almost black in the glowing light of the burn-box.

Harry cautiously watched Jean-Claude sway before him, the wand in his hand and the thestrals hissing around him giving him comfort. He waited patiently for the vampire to say something.

Jean-Claude only regarded him and the creatures around him with a sort of shaken amazement. When he finally did speak, it almost made Harry forget to be afraid of him, it was so unexpected.

"No wonder you keep apples of blood, to give to such blood-thirsty horses, monsieur."

Harry blinked. "Horses?" He looked at the thestrals around him and then back to Jean-Claude. "You see horses?"

"Is that not what they are, Monsieur Harry?"

Well... that answered that question. Harry shook his head, it wasn't important right now.

"You shouldn't have attacked me," he said angrily.

Jean-Claude smiled. "It may be for the best, monsieur."

"What?"

Jean-Claude held up an arm with a long gash on it, blood dripped from the torn edges of the sleeve. "My Master may believe this is the result of approaching you. You may be left alone now."

Harry stared at him. "Won't you still be punished?"

"Perhaps not as harshly." Jean-Claude looked down at his torn clothes and gaping wounds. "Not if these do not heal quickly."

Harry winced. He shouldn't feel bad considering Jean-Claude had been planning to eat him, but he hadn't actually been hurt and those slashes looked painful.

"If they don't..." Harry took a breath and stared Jean-Claude in the eye. "If they don't, come back. I might have something that'll help."

Jean-Claude blinked before laughing quietly. "You are most peculiar, Harry, but," a smile stretched his lips again. "You are most fascinating as well."

* * *

The day after Harry had watched Jean-Claude limp away from his home, he set about updating the wards. The new ward, keyed to vampires, would only activate if he was attacked again, forcing the offending creature to be immediately expelled from the property. He thought about using a more powerful ward, one that would simply light an attacking vampire up like a candle, but remembering Jean-Claude's parting words and how empty he seemed when he mentioned "his master"... well, Harry decided not to. Let the vampire have a chance to run away; so long as he wasn't eaten what did it matter?

The only problem with the more passive ward, was that it required Harry's blood to be spilled during an attack. Blood had been needed, not only to help the vampire ward soak into the borders, but also to key itself to Harry. Meaning, if someone other than Harry was attacked, the ward wouldn't activate.

Harry wasn't particularly bothered by this, seeing as he lived alone and rarely had guests. The real problem was that it would stay dormant until Harry bled and last night, Jean-Claude hadn't even broken his skin. Jean-Claude had terrified the life out of him, bruised him a bit, and was most definitely planning to bite him, but not a drop of Harry's blood fell before the thestrals came to help him. How was he going to stop an attack like that happening again without needing to get hurt worse first?

It was a problem. Harry had thought he could craft a ward to activate when vampire magic was used, but he had no idea how to identify that sort of magic in the first place. He'd never seen anything like it, and a quick perusal of his DADA texts and vampire-specific wards made him certain that no one else had either.

There was also the issue of what Harry would do if he met a vampire away from home. He did go into town once in a while, to relax. Strolling about, looking at shops, picking up better food than he could make himself, icecream.... Harry liked going into the city whenever he wanted, and he'd never bothered to worry whether it was day or night either. Even knowing vampires were wandering about more frequently hadn't upset him. He had never been afraid of the dark before and he wasn't about to start now.

So that meant he needed to figure out a way to defend himself without a wand. The first thing to pop in mind was crosses. Everyone said crosses worked on vampires, but Harry had heard from muggle news that not all vampires were greatly deterred by them. Some vampire imprisoned in California had killed twenty people and all of them had crosses. So, no.

The other thought he had was fire. He knew a number of fire spells and charms, but he still needed a wand for all of them. Although, he thought, he had gotten better at wandless magic. He could levitate objects and summon them without a wand, and he had always been good at calling light without a wand as well.... Wait, that was it! Vampires didn't do well in sunlight, and there were some light spells made to mimic the sun!

Harry grinned. He had a plan to keep the vampires away from him, no matter what. 

 


	5. A Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry thinks too much.

  
Chapter 5- A Night Out

 

Harry spent over a week perfecting his light spells before he felt confident enough to visit the city again. He'd learned to control the types of light he could produce with a wand to within 50 nm anywhere in the light spectrum; without a wand, Harry's control wasn't as refined and he could only produce three strengths of light-- a normal lumus, a very powerful lumos, and a solar light spell that only emitted in a single ray. If he met a vampire without a wand, he'd need to be very careful about aiming.

Still, the possible threat of any sunlight near a vampire should be enough to deter future attacks, whether it was aimed properly or not. So it was with restored confidence that Harry went out to treat himself to something he'd sorely missed when he worried he might be stuck hiding for the rest of the summer-- ice cream.

Harry's favorite parlor so far was located to the west of St. Louis in an area called University City, probably due to the university located there. The town had a great deal of eateries and shopping and, during the summer at least, ice cream parlors. Grinning as he looked in the case lined with multi-colored tubs, Harry wondered if any of the parlors would still be open in the winter. He hoped so.

An hour later, Harry was strolling down a tree-lined street, contentedly full from the chocolate and strawberry sundae he's finished earlier. The day had been particularly hot and the evening was still warm, but the ice cream had done a wonderful job cooling him down. Now, the sky was a hazy red orange and Harry was contemplating heading back to feed the thestrals or wandering about for a bit longer. If he didn't show up, the thestrals would find something to eat in the forest, though they might be annoyed with him when he returned.

Speaking of which, the thestrals had been particularly agitated the past week. Harry had thought at first they were merely miffed at allowing a threat to leave the property alive, but lately he'd begun to think they were simply mad at him for letting Jean-Claude eat their apples. He'd ordered a new shipment for them as thanks the day after they saved him from the vampire, but the apples had yet to arrive, and every day it didn't show up, the thestrals became more and more ruffled. Especially Therdad.

As he stopped to think what he should do, Harry glanced around the street, noting that the general dress code was getting somewhat nicer and the people were getting somewhat rowdier. Also more selective in their grouping-- nearly everyone about could be paired off, whether in a single couple or a group of couples. Blinking, Harry realized it was a Friday night and most people out now would be on dates.

Well. That put a bit of a damper on the evening. Harry sighed. Not that he had anything against couples really, he just felt... awkward around them nowadays. Uncomfortable. Not because of his breakup-- oh no, that wasn't it at all. Point of fact, his breakup with Ginny a year ago had gone rather smoothly all things considered; they'd both agreed to not hold any hard feelings and had so far managed to keep to that.

`Course, Harry thought wryly, that was probably due to just how badly their attempts at furthering their relationship had gone. Making out had been all well and good; snogging, fondling, and occasionally tripping while trying to find a seat without turing one's head, was all had in good fun. But soon as their interactions turned to more of a vertical persuasion and hands started wandering under clothes, Harry found himself balking horribly.

She was Ron's sister, she was practically his sister, she'd helped bury Colin, she didn't understand why Harry'd chosen to die, he might sort of be the reason her brother was killed, she looked like his mother, she acted like his mother, she still saw everything in black and white, she was too childish, she was too innocent, she was too interested in sex.... There were all sorts of reasons that popped into Harry's head the moment he realized he couldn't continue a relationship with her-- most of which he'd spouted out uncontrollably, and most of which Ginny had told him were hogwash.

In fact, after listening to him ramble for far longer than either had been comfortable with, Ginny had threatened to send her Bat-Bogey Hex after his crotch for the next day or so if he didn't shut it and then proceeded to explain why everything he'd listed was both stupid and contradictory. Admittedly, Harry agreed with her. Not one reason he came up with really explained why he wanted to break up with her, and all of them together sounded more like excuses.

The only reason Ginny had gone along with it anyway was, after trying to continue despite his misgivings, Harry still wouldn't relent. Ginny thought the problem was Harry's lack of experience. After all, Harry had only dated Cho and Ginny, and until then, had only snogged a bit, whereas Ginny had dated a number of boys and done quite a bit more.

She was definitely ready to move on to things more unspeakable in public and wasn't really interested in holding Harry's hand until he was ready as well. So, they broke up.

Harry hadn't been entirely comfortable with the whole thing, but he decided it was better just to move on and not make a fuss. The only thing he couldn't let go of was Ginny's implication that he was "naive" simply because he didn't want to have sex with her. He hadn't been particularly naive about anything in years, and one would think that bloody dying once would erase any naivety left in a person.

So now, Harry had developed a decided disdain for anyone involved in the sort of relationship he'd left. Couples simply annoyed him to no end.

Glaring openly now at the groups of people out on their precious dates, Harry decided it was time to find a secluded spot to disapparate. Unfortunately, it was a summer Friday night, and there were people everywhere. He really should get a calendar so he could plan his random outings better.

The area was so busy now, in fact, that if Harry wished to get home he would either have to call a cab or walk until the crowds thinned enough to hide. Thinking it over, Harry decided against a cab (the American sort seemed dreadfully unstable and tended to smell odd) but also thought that if he was going to walk much more, he might as well stay out for the night. Just... not in a popular date area.

So it was, that when Harry finally rounded a corner and found no one about, he ducked into an alcove and apparated off to another section of St. Louis he frequented-- a theater mall. Or rather, he apparated behind a dumpster, in the alley, behind the theater mall. He could wander around the shops, see if they had anything interesting, maybe even buy dinner when he got hungry again. Or at least, that was what Harry had thought he would do until he realized the mall was closing for the night.

Huh. Harry looked around the parking lot of the mall. He didn't feel like going home yet now he'd decided to stay out, but he had to think of something else to do, and all the places he could go were either closed or date attractions. What was there to do on a Friday night when you didn't want to deal with couples?

The moment an idea occurred to him, Harry's mind went blank.

Vampire businesses were open at night and they weren't huge date spots. Couples did go to such places, but most people went in packs-- the idea being that they would be safer in a group. Harry had decided to come out tonight because he was confident he could hold his own against a vampire no matter what, but actually rushing off to confront one didn't strike him as a particularly inspired plan.

Although... he could let them know not to mess with him anymore, not now that he could defend himself without a wand. Except...

Harry worried his lip while leaning against the wall of the shopping mall. He'd wanted the vampires to leave him alone and ever since Jean-Claude had limped away over a week ago, he'd not heard from or seen a single one. So maybe they really would leave him alone now. But, if he went walking about where they all were, they might decide he wasn't leaving them alone and retaliate.

Except, it really wasn't fair if that meant Harry couldn't go someplace just because it would upset them. There were businesses and bars (not including the stripping sort, Harry thought heatedly) and even some sort of carnival house, all open to the general public. So if everyday muggles could visit such places without fear (nevermind they generally were afraid anyway), then why couldn't he?

Satisfied with that turn of logic, Harry nodded to himself and wandered over to some dark bushes against the wall to disapparate to an alley he'd found in the District when he went looking for vampires the first time. He wouldn't be doing so this time, oh no, but if he happened to run into any well, that was just a coincidence.

Right.

* * *

The District was even more crowded than the last time he'd been, but that was probably because it was an hour after full dark rather than just after dusk. The crowds were thankfully not of the dating persuasion and were huddling together, whispering and pointing excitedly, trying to decide which vampire business to enter. Good idea, Harry thought, also turning to look at the buildings on the street.

Pubs, closed shops, pubs, something obviously embarrassing if the neon lights were to be trusted, and more pubs. Well, that was an easy choice then. Harry didn't drink really, but he'd never said no when Ron wanted to grab a fire whiskey or two at the Leaky Cauldron after work. He imagined muggle whiskey or lager, or whatever they had, couldn't be much different. Besides, he could get dinner as well.

He walked into the nearest pub, a run down looking place with dark windows and a toon-ish sign that looked quiet from the street but turned out to be unbelievably packed. Harry stood a moment at the door, trying to see if there was even a space for him to stand. Just as he was thinking he should find another pub, a trio at the bar got up to leave and Harry quickly darted through the crowd to claim a seat.

Breathing a sigh, Harry grinned at the balding vampire barkeep who'd come over to him. "Hiya, I'll have a whiskey and whatever you serve for dinner."

"Sure," the vampire grinned at him, showing fangs. "I'll just see some ID and get that right out to you."

"`Course," Harry said, fumbling in his pocket for the magical ID the U.S. Ministry had issued him. To muggle eyes, it would look like a normal driver's license for the state he'd chosen to live in (they'd been surprised he'd be living in a state technically outside their jurisdiction), but to a wizard, it was a picture ID designating him a magical immigrant from Britain and listing a short description of his wand and current residence. Harry handed the plastic card over.

"Hmm." The vampire inspected the card carefully before glancing at Harry with raised eyebrows. "Says here you're only nineteen."

"That's right," Harry said.

"Well then, I can't serve you alcohol and I can't have you sitting up here at the bar," the vampire said with a shrug as he handed the card back.

"What?" Harry frowned.

"Can't drink `till you're twenty-one. It's the law."

"B-but, I've been drinking since I was seventeen!" Harry said indignantly. The people beside him glanced at his outburst and turned to the barkeep. Harry supposed they were wondering how the vampire was going to handle this.

The vampire looked at him critically. "You're from England, right?"

"What, did the accent tip you off?" Harry said shortly, annoyed at being denied a drink.

"Something like that," the vampire laughed. The patrons sitting at the bar gasped and stared as his fangs flashed in the light. "But in any case, law's still the law. In this country, you can't drink until you turn twenty-one. Sorry"

Harry glared. "That's rubbish," he muttered as he slid off the barstool. He couldn't enjoy a walk, he couldn't shop, he couldn't even buy a drink in a ruddy pub! What a night.

"Hey, now, I can't sell you alcohol, but you can still have a burger," the vampire called after him.

"Don't feel like it anymore!" Harry shouted back over the din. The crowd fell silent, watching him and the barkeep. Harry glanced around nervously. What the hell?

"Well, none of the other bars in this city'll serve you alcohol, so you better not try it again," the vampire grinned so wide, Harry could see his fangs from across the room. A woman at the bar giggled.

Harry stared at the people avidly watching him. "I said I don't feel like it anymore. I'll find something else to do."

"You do that. And come back when you're legal, alright?" The crowd laughed hesitantly, gawking between Harry and the vampire bar tender.

Harry glared. "I'm not coming back here at all!" he said loudly, not caring anymore that everyone could hear him and were watching. Honestly, what was wrong with these people? Was it some odd American tradition to be rude to anyone refused a drink? Was public humiliation their method of keeping underage drinking down or something?

Thoroughly annoyed now, Harry stormed out of the pub, onto the street, the laughter of the crowd fading once the door swung closed. Staring angrily around him, Harry wondered what exactly he was supposed to do now. He could find some other pub or restaurant and get a dinner with a non-alcoholic drink, but he was still annoyed at the thought of not being allowed to have something he'd already had a number of times. Really, what was wrong with Americans?

Harry turned down the street, walking aimlessly, once more at a loss for something to do. He should have simply gone home when he had the chance, but now he felt too narked to add on dealing with the thestrals' moods. Though he probably shouldn't spend the rest of the night wandering about. If he was going to stay out, then he at least needed to find something to occupy himself, and maybe help lift his spirits.

He was thinking so deeply, that he only heard his name the third time it was called out to him.

"Harry!"

Harry turned to the side. Jean-Claude was standing there, against the wall of... oh, no, against the wall of that bloody strip club. Somehow he'd wandered right to it. Harry gaped.

The vampire stared at him a moment before smiling in blatant amusement. "Out looking for entertainment, monsieur?"

"I- No!" Harry said defensively. Jean-Claude only smirked at him.

"Oh? Then why are you wandering an entertainment district? Lonely, perhaps?"

"I am not!"

Jean-Claude stretched against the wall, his eyes shining in the neon light. "Are you certain, mon sorcier? You might find enjoyable company more easily if you are honest."

"I was just bored and hungry! I'm not looking for company!" Harry huffed. "What in the world are you doing standing outside anyway? I thought you owned this, er, place." Harry made a face as he glanced up at the glowing pink neon sign.

"We are shorthanded tonight, so I am assisting with the more menial tasks," Jean-Claude said with a brief gesture to the door he was guarding. Harry blinked as he wondered why there wasn't a crowd lined up along the wall like last time. Maybe business wasn't doing well.

"You don't look busy," he said, waving a hand at the empty street. No wonder he hadn't noticed where he was going-- in his sour mood, he'd avoided the noise of the crowds and this street had hardly anyone on it.

Jean-Claude tipped his head. "The police are interrogating several of my dancers, and our clientele have unfortunately been intimidated."

"Isn't that harassment?" Harry asked. "If your business does poorly because of them interfering?"

"I am surprised you would be concerned for me, mon sorcier." Jean-Claude looked at him.

Harry frowned. "Why?"

"Why, because I am a vampire."

"Well, it's still wrong," Harry said indignantly. "It doesn't matter if you're a vampire or not."

"Ah." The vampire stared at him with a blank expression. "In that case, why should you care for someone who hurt you?"

Harry drew back. "You didn't hurt me!"

"Frightened you then."

"You didn't-- you, you git," Harry snarled. Jean-Claude simply watched him, seeming to be truly curious for Harry's answer. "You're the one who walked off all mangled!"

"True." Jean-Claude nodded. "But that still begs the question of what you are doing here, monsieur. When I left you, it seemed that you never wished to encounter a vampire again." Jean-Claude looked at Harry searchingly. "In fact, I do believe you have remained safely locked away on your farm for all of this past week. So, why are you here?"

Harry blinked. Good question. Why was he here? Why on earth hadn't he simply gone home the moment he finished his sundae? Why had he decided to go walking around the most vampire infested section of St. Louis instead?

"Er, are your wounds healed?" Harry asked quickly, stalling while he tried to figure himself out.

Jean-Claude blinked. "Do you mean to tell me, monsieur, that you came all the way here merely to inquire to my health?"

Harry glanced up, startled. "What? No! That's not why!"

"Oh, no?"

"No! I just-- That only just occurred to me!" Harry said as he glared at the vampire, who was barely concealing a smile behind his hand. "I just wanted to stay out late, that's all."

"Then why come to the vampire business area? Why not have your late night in a safer section of the city?" Jean-Claude walked around the stairs to stand by Harry. "Are you no longer worried you'll be attacked, monsieur?"

Harry glared but stood his ground when the vampire brushed close. "No," he said defiantly. "I've been practicing." Harry turned to face the vampire and crossed his arms smugly. "I can cast sunlight now."

Jean-Claude froze. "Can you now?"

"Yep." Harry grinned.

"So then you came here to threaten my kind away from yourself?"

"What? No!" Harry dropped his arms in shock. Bugger. "I just wanted to stay out late, like I said! I was celebrating."

Jean-Claude frowned at him. "Celebrating? The fact that you can now light vampires on fire?"

That sounded much worse out loud than it had in Harry's head. "Well, only if one tries to eat me."

"Yet you still felt the need to celebrate this addition to your defenses in the vampire section of the city."

"Well, actually I went to University City for ice cream," Harry explained. He didn't want Jean-Claude to think he was trying to flaunt his powers or anything. Coming here was starting to feel like a really bad idea.

Jean-Claude stared at him, clearly confused. "Ice cream... Then, what are you doing here?"

"Well, the area I was in got too, er, crowded--" Harry said awkwardly, remembering all the couples he'd run into.

"It is crowded here on the weekends as well, monsieur."

"Yeah, but it's not the same," Harry hedged. "Anyway, I tried to go shopping, but everything was closing, so I tried to think of places that were open late at night and--"

"And you thought of vampire owned businesses," Jean-Claude finished for him, with a peculiar look on his face. Harry worried his lip.

"Well, yeah," he said. "That's right."

They stood there staring at each other, the light of the neon sign above casting a red glow on the empty street. Finally, Jean-Claude's lips began to twitch.

"You learned to call sunlight to defend yourself from vampires, went to celebrate with ice cream, then came to wander an area filled with vampires because their businesses are always open late," he said, an edge of laughter to his voice.

"I didn't come to wander!" Harry said quickly, not wanting to give the impression-- again-- that he was looking to intimidate anyone. "I went to a pub, but they wouldn't serve me because I'm not twenty-one yet...." Harry trailed off. That didn't really explain why he was still here, wandering about as the vampire had said.

Jean-Claude's lips twitched again and a hand came up to cover his mouth. "That does explain the ice cream, however, mon sorcier, I still find myself wondering why you have not simply returned home."

Harry glanced away, embarrassed. "I didn't feel like it," he muttered.

Jean-Claude regarded him. "Do you feel like it now?"

"Not really." Harry shrugged, still looking at the wall.

"Well, then." Jean-Claude tapped a finger against his mouth. "Shall I entertain you, mon sorcier?"

Harry looked up. "No! Why on earth would you want to?"

"Well, simply, you fascinate me," Jean-Claude said with a grin. Harry blanched. Wait a moment, this was all going back to his original problem.

"Hold on! I'm not--"

"Doing anything for vampires and you do not wish to be eaten," Jean-Claude interrupted. "Yes, mon sorcier, you have made that quite clear for all your... peculiar approaches."

Harry glared at him. "Well I'm not going back into that bloody club!"

"Unfortunately, mon sorcier, I could not allow you to." Jean-Claude sighed. "Is it true you were denied service at one of the bars for being underage?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a frown. It was still annoying to think of.

"Then I am afraid it was technically illegal for me to entertain you last week. The age limit for my club is the same for drinking-- twenty-one." Jean-Claude smiled. "Might I ask, how old are you exactly?"

Harry stared at him. "Wait a minute. You mean to say, that I shouldn't even have been in that- that- place, watching men prance about with their trousers down! That I could have simply left because I wasn't of age!"

"You could have left at any time, mon sorcier. I would not have forced you to stay."

"You wouldn't have-!" Harry glared. "You did so! I tried to leave and you kept going on how it would be rude if I didn't stay a bit longer! You dragged me to a table in front of a whole bloody mob and made me order a drink!"

"And you asked for a soda." Jean-Claude held a hand before his mouth. "I should have realized then you were too naive for such offerings as my club provides."

Harry froze. That's what the vampire thought of him? That he was naive? He supposed all the people back at the pub had thought the same as well. While Harry stood there, stewing in sudden rage, the large vampire from his first visit came out of the building to speak to Jean-Claude. When the two vampires had finished discussing whatever it was they'd needed to, Jean-Claude walked back over to Harry, who by then was nearly shaking.

"Mon sorcier? Are you well?"

Harry glared at him furiously. "I am not naive!" he shouted, before turning around and stalking up the street. He was going home.

Behind him, Jean-Claude stood a moment in shock before hurrying to catch him. "Have I offended you, monsieur? I only said such a thing in jest."

"But it's what you think, isn't it?" Harry snarled, stopping suddenly to glare at the vampire rushing to his side.

Jean-Claude looked at him blankly. "I am not naive!" Harry repeated harshly before turning again to continue walking. "I haven't been naive since I was four!"

"I apologize, monsieur," Jean-Claude said quietly behind him. Harry found himself stopping and staring at the ground. "I had only meant to tease you. I can see now that was a mistake."

Harry took a deep breath. He was a git. It wasn't Jean-Claude's fault Harry was having such a rotten night. It wasn't Jean-Claude's fault Ginny had been so prissy about Harry not wanting to have sex with her. He glanced back to call "Sorry" before continuing on. After a few moments, he realized Jean-Claude was following him still and turned to face him.

"What are you doing?" he asked tersely.

"I did offer you my company this evening, it would be rude of me to abandon you now."

"I don't need company." Harry frowned. "I'm going home."

Jean-Claude moved to stand beside him. "You are a very peculiar young man, monsieur."

"So?" Harry said shortly, crossing his arms. He was trying not to lash out at the vampire, but he still felt angry about the whole evening.

Jean-Claude smiled faintly. "You are not angry with me for attacking you, you are not seeking revenge; yet, when I have said something which does anger you, rather than burning me as you claim you can, you merely shout and run away."

"I can cast sunlight, so don't try to--"

Jean-Claude held a hand up. "I do not doubt that, monsieur. I can taste the truth in your words and have no wish to test it. What intrigues me is that you seem not to wish to use such power when the opportunity arises."

"You didn't attack me," Harry said, anger dripping slowly away to be replaced with confusion.

"No, but I did insult you."

"You didn't mean to, and that's not a good enough reason to fight anyway," Harry said. This was turning into a truly peculiar conversation.

"And that is what intrigues me." Jean-Claude studied Harry, making him shift nervously. He wasn't going to start doing any odd vampire magic again, was he? "Most of those with power, use it against those without at the slightest provocation and yet you choose not to."

Harry stared at him. What? Jean-Claude thought Harry would bully him because he could and was surprised that he hadn't? This might explain why the vampire had attacked him at the farm, if that was really how he thought people ought to behave.

Jean-Claude laughed at the look on Harry's face. "Oh, mon sorcier, you are fascinating!" The vampire quieted and looked pleasantly at Harry, who was now quite confused and unsure how to respond. "Now you must tell me, how old are you?"

 


	6. A Night Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampires have feelings too.

  
Chapter 6- A Night Walk

 

Harry glared at the pavement as he tried to ignore the click of heeled boots keeping pace behind him. Despite his insistence that he was going home and Jean-Claude should stop following him, the vampire had continued to shadow him as he walked out of the District. It was getting to the point that Harry worried the sun would have to rise before he could duck unseen into an alley and disapparate.

"Have you decided how to spend your evening yet, mon sorcier?" Jean-Claude called out behind him.

Harry sighed and stopped walking to turn around and glare at the vampire. "For the last time-- no! So, stop following me!"

"And leave you to walk through such a dangerous area of the city alone?" Harry could swear just from listening that Jean-Claude was grinning, but his face wouldn't show so much as a twitch. "I could not be so callous as that, mon sorcier."

"I can take care of myself," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"I'm quite sure, mon sorcier, but I have already offered you my services for the night." Jean-Claude's lips quirked in the smallest of grins. "I would be remiss in my manners to leave you unattended."

Harry let out a huff of irritation. "Well, then how about you 'attend' me by going away and leaving me alone?"

Jean-Claude's grin grew wider. "Alas, if I were to leave your sight, how would you know I was doing as you bid me?"

Harry felt a headache coming on and raised a hand to rub at his forehead. "Well, it would be a lot quieter."

"Ah, but you are the one so eager for conversation, mon sorcier. If you wish me to attend you silently, you need only say so."

"I don't want you attending me at all!" Harry snapped. "And you're the one who started talking! I told you I was going home, you keep asking me stuff!"

"Of course I would ask what it is you intend to do when you are walking so determinedly down a dark and empty street, in the industrial section of town, far from any cabs to return you to your far off home," Jean-Claude said with an almost exasperated tone.

"Oh." Harry blinked. "Right, a taxi...."

"Yes, mon sorcier, a taxi," Jean-Claude said. Then he gave Harry a penetrating sort of look. "Did you not intend to take a cab home? Have you some other means of returning to your farm?"

Harry shook his head. "No, no I don't." They stared at each other, Harry awkwardly and Jean-Claude with a disbelieving gaze.

"Well, then," Harry said and rubbed his neck tiredly. "Er, where would a taxi be at this time of night?"

Jean-Claude shook his head lightly. "Mon sorcier, we have been walking for over half an hour, long since passed out of any commercial district, and yet it only occurs to you now that you should have stayed in an area with traffic?"

Harry glared. "Look, if you won't stop 'attending' me, you could at least be a little more polite about it. And anyway--" Harry shrugged and started walking back the way they had come. "I was mostly walking just to get away from you."

Jean-Claude's eyes narrowed to slits as Harry passed him.

"My apologies that my company has not been so pleasant for you, monsieur," Jean-Claude said coldly. Harry paused to glance back at him. "However, I think allowing a fool to wander as he wishes with nary an ill remark and offering little more than a teasing jibe when he realizes his own folly, far exceeds the expectations of mere politeness."

Harry's eyes widened with each word falling from Jean-Claude's mouth and by the end of his snide comment, Harry was about as furious as when the vampire had called him 'naive.'

"I told you about a dozen times to go away!" Harry snarled as he whirled around to face the vampire fully. "Wasn't that enough of a clue to you that I didn't want any company?"

"A weak protest, if that," Jean-Claude said mildly, turning to lean against a burned out lamp post. "You clearly longed for some companionship, given that your best objection to my initial intrusion in your solitude was to strike up a conversation about my... health."

Harry glared. "And the number of times I told you I was going home so you could bugger off were, what exactly? Some sort of backwards plea for you keep me from feeling lonely?"

"That, or at best, a poor disguise for the dark intentions of a young man, capable of setting vampires on fire with magic, wishing to wander the vampire district unobserved."

Harry felt his mouth fall open in shock. "What? Y-you actually think I went to the vampire district so I could set someone on fire? I-" Harry waved an arm at the vampire before him. "Then how come I haven't set you on fire? You'd certainly deserve it at this point!"

Jean-Claude laughed. "Hardly, mon sorcier." He stared at Harry glaring at him, then shook his head and laughed again. "If your business was not to harm anyone, and you no longer felt like spending time in the district, then why did you continue walking there? Why did you walk past my club? Why walk all the way out here, with me following, if not to have some company?"

"I told you," Harry said with a blush and clenched jaw. "I was walking away from you! I just forgot about the taxicabs, alright?"

Jean-Claude quirked an eyebrow. "You have not gotten very far away, mon sorcier. I think, perhaps, you have simply not been trying to escape me." The vampire straightened from the post and walked closer to Harry. He looked down at him and smiled softly. "I think, perhaps, you are lonely."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, for Merlin's sake.... Look," he said, trying to put as much force into his voice as possible, "I was only a bit distracted because tonight has been, well, rather disappointing for me. But even if I were lonely, I would still not be spending my time with you."

Jean-Claude's eyes widened and the soft smile vanished. Then he snarled at Harry and cool magic blew through the air, like wind. "I truly did not think my presence was so intolerable, monsieur."

Harry glanced nervously about as the vampire's magic twisted and wrapped around them both. He shifted back a few steps and flicked his wrist so his wand fell out of its holster.

"I told you over and over to go away!" he snapped at the vampire.

Jean-Claude laughed. "You claimed you would return home and then wandered off like a lost little lamb!"

Harry's spine snapped straight and his face flushed as he shouted out, "I am not a lamb!"

"Indeed?" Jean-Claude said. "Then where have you been walking all evening, if I may ask?"

"I told you! Away from you!"

They both stood glaring at each other, while Jean-Claude's magic chilled the air until Harry started shivering. When Harry raised his left arm to rub some warmth back into his right, Jean-Claude sighed and turned away from him. The magic swirling in the air faded and the summer heat fell back onto Harry like a weight.

"Very well, monsieur," Jean-Claude said. "I apologize for causing you such discomfort. I will not trouble you again."

Harry snorted. "You're acting like I hurt you?"

Jean-Claude glared at him cooly. "Are you claiming to have not insulted me, monsieur? That this is not some elaborate revenge for my earlier offense?"

"No!" Harry said, glaring back just as harshly. "I just wanted to be left alone! And you stalked me because you were ordered to! Not because you were worried about me being lonely!"

"Ordered, monsieur? To follow you into an area of abandoned warehouses after you announced your ability to burn me with sunlight?"

"Not you specifically," Harry muttered. "And yes! Why else would you refuse to leave me alone after I asked you so many times to go?"

"Perhaps because I truly believed you were lonesome and felt compelled to offer you some comfort after you had offered me some?" Jean-Claude said with a lifted eyebrow.

"Oh, please!" Harry snorted and crossed his arms, wand still held carefully in his right hand. "The only reason you even talk to me is because that master-of-the-city vampire told you to!"

Jean-Claude looked at him speculatively for a few silent moments, then sighed and rubbed his eyes as if tired.

"I think, mon ami, it would do us both well if you were to know that the Master of the City is no longer interested in you."

"What do you mean?" Harry let his arms fall to his sides.

Jean-Claude gave a sardonic shake of his head before looking over at him. "Aside from the fact that your brutalization of me after I 'fed' from you was seen as an uncompromising rejection of my Master's offer, another witch, of sorts, approached her with a desire to serve in the capacity you were wanted for."

"Wait-- really?" Harry asked.

"Yes. So you needn't worry that I, or any other vampire, will continue seeking your services for our Master. You have made your stance on the issue quite clear," Jean-Claude said, and his lips had that slight twitch to them that indicated the beginning of a smile.

"So, you..." Harry trailed off suddenly, remembering the shouted argument from only moments ago.

"I walked with you for no reasons other than my own."

"Oh."

Harry felt a flush crawl across his face, making the already heavy heat of the evening even more unbearable. Jean-Claude's smirk only added to that feeling.

"Um, well," Harry fidgeted a bit before resolutely striding off down the street, deciding it would be best to simply ignore the vampire for a moment. "Sorry about that then."

"Oh, indeed?" Jean-Claude said as he began walking behind him. Harry could swear the vampire was enjoying his embarrassment.

"Yes, alright?" Harry said quickly, telling himself to stop flushing like a nitwit and get over it. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, I'm sorry I was rude to you, and I'm sorry you didn't bother to tell me about this earlier, alright?"

"Ah, so it is my fault you mistook my kind gesture for manipulation and insulted me?" Jean-Claude caught up to Harry's side and watched his face so intently Harry felt his face heating up even more.

"Yes, actually." Harry kept his gaze locked ahead of him, refusing to acknowledge either the vampire's staring or his crimson face. "I was really worried about what was going on and you following me when I thought your master might still want my help just made it worse!"

"But then, why visit the vampire district at all? If the Master had still wanted your allegiance, or felt slighted by your rejection, every vampire in the city could have been instructed to restrain you for a meeting."

Harry froze and turned his head to stare at Jean-Claude. "I... well...." Harry coughed into his hand and continued walking. "I didn't really think it through all the way."

"Clearly."

Harry stopped again to glare, but Jean-Claude only smiled pleasantly at him until, with a roll of his eyes and a huff, he started walking once more.

"But I still wonder, mon sorcier, what were you looking for in the District if not company?" Harry frowned at the quiet tone Jean-Claude was using. "A distraction perhaps?"

Harry slowed and looked over at the vampire beside him. "No, I... just didn't feel like going home."

"But you were not in the mood to find some quiet, out of the way place to be on your own." Jean-Claude was staring back at him, his face a pleasant mask but his eyes seemed to burn as they watched him. "You say you left University City because it was crowded, yet you sought out more crowds to immerse yourself in. Why?"

"I..." Harry blinked and slowly came to a stop as if his feet had turned to lead. "I just... didn't want to think, I guess," he said finally, a frown creasing his face as he bowed his head to look at the pavement.

"About what, mon sorcier? Surely there cannot be more troubling you than vampires at the moment?"

Harry glanced up to catch a soft smirk on Jean-Claude's face and realized suddenly, the vampire was actually trying to comfort him. He frowned at the thought and looked away.

"I don't know," he said. Beside him, Jean-Claude raised a hand to his chin as if in thought.

"Then, perhaps we can find something to distract you, mon sorcier."

Harry's gaze swung back to stare at the vampire. "Like what?" he asked.

Jean-Claude gave a small smile and held out his hand. Harry glanced at it suspiciously.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked slowly. Jean-Claude's smile widened and rather than continuing to hold out his hand, he gestured instead for Harry to follow him. Harry did so with only the slightest hesitation because, if he were honest with himself, he did want to be distracted.

Several blocks later the streets became busier and Jean-Claude somehow waved a taxi over to pick them up. Then they were taken around and past the vampire district, leaving Harry curious as to what exactly Jean-Claude had in mind.

Unlike their last taxi ride, Jean-Claude politely stayed on his side of the seat, gazing out at the city lights as they passed by. Left to himself for the ride, Harry found he was oddly excited. He would never admit as much to the vampire, but he was grateful for Jean-Claude's efforts. He knew perfectly well he tended to turn somewhat nasty when he was restless and worrying. It was a wonder his friends were ever able to tolerate him at times like these, never mind a strange vampire.

They soon came to a stop at the corner of a wide car park. Stepping out after Jean-Claude shooed him off as he paid the tab, Harry saw beyond the pavement and the trees surrounding it, the Gateway Arch, glowing practically white in the darkness, lit as it was by spot lights.

"I thought the arch closed for the evenings," Harry said as soon as the vampire stopped next to him.

"It does, mon sorcier, however, I find the night view to be far more stunning than the day view," Jean-Claude replied while leading Harry over to a path through the trees.

Harry wondered if Jean-Claude had ever actually seen the day view, but thought it best not to comment. He'd made enough of an ass of himself for one night.

"Well, I suppose it does look nice all lit up like that," he said instead. Although he did think this was turning out to be a rather dull distraction.

Beside him, the vampire laughed. "I meant of course, mon sorcier, the view from the top of the monument, not of the great Arch itself."

"But... it's closed for the evenings."

"Yes, mon sorcier, what of it?" Harry couldn't be sure on the dark path under the trees, but he felt the vampire was smirking at him.

"It's closed, so we can't go to the top, obviously," he said, frowning as he did.

"Not from the inside, obviously," Jean-Claude said mysteriously. Just as Harry was about to remark that there wasn't any other way to get to the top of the Gateway Arch, the vampire shushed him and looked carefully around the clearing the path had led them to.

Before them, the cement path widened out to encompass one of the arch's enormous legs, easily wider around the base than a fully grown giant. Though the memorial park was dark and nearly empty, there were still multiple spotlights all pointing up at the arch's graceful curve, bathing the ground in a soft white light, and a few tourists were wandering about the wide field admiring the glowing monument.

Jean-Claude watched the people walking past, then, as one couple walked around the arch and another group turned to look over the river, he reached for Harry's arm and ran with him up to the base of the closest leg of the arch.

"What are you doing?" Harry was almost stumbling as Jean-Claude dragged him forward.

"Hush, mon sorcier, or we may get caught," the vampire said with a grin thrown over his shoulder. The next moment, they were in the air.

Harry gave a shout as they hit the side of the arch with a thump. Jean-Claude only pulled him closer, placed a hand over his mouth, and leapt again. Harry struggled a bit until the vampire had to drop the hand from his mouth to grab a firm hold of his shoulder, and in that time Jean-Claude had brought them both more than half-way up the side of the arch. Harry knew better than to struggle more and turned to watch the ground rush away from them as Jean-Claude ran higher and higher up the side of the steep structure.

Finally, Jean-Claude made one last lunge that propelled them over the top of the arch's curve, landing with Harry on the somewhat flat apex. As soon as he was released, Harry spun to glare at the vampire.

"What the hell was that!" he shouted, voice torn away by the wind, but the vampire had surely heard because his smile widened and he waved an arm over the edge of the arch.

"Do you not like the view, mon sorcier?"

Drawn by his gesture, Harry's gaze turned out, over the edge of the arch, to the city below. He blinked and forgot for a moment to be angry with the vampire as he stepped a little closer to admire the view.

The city was glowing gold, street lamps and buildings all lit up together and reflecting off the pavement. The whole city was stretched out before him, fading from a river of light to faint, flickering pinpricks, like stars, in the distance.

Jean-Claude stepped beside him smugly, also staring out at St. Louis in admiration.

"It is lovely, is it not, mon sorcier?"

Harry glanced at him. "Well, yes…. I take it you do this often?"

The vampire's lips curled at the ends. "As often as I find myself needing a few moments alone and unobserved."

"That doesn't work if you bring someone with you." Harry met Jean-Claude's gaze pointedly.

"Unless I wish to share the solitude and beauty with one who might have need of it himself." Jean-Claude gave a small smile with no sign of fangs, then turned to look out at the city, clearly offering Harry some space.

Harry stared at him for a few moments, confused at this unexpected kindness. He had been rather rude to him after all, and something like this, a place that was isolated, quiet, and, to be honest, beautiful as well, where he was simply offered the chance to sit and relax, well…. No one had ever done that for him before.

He hoped the vampire wasn't trying to butter him up for another chance at his blood.

The wind from this high up was cool and untamed by trees or skyscrapers and Harry found it pleasant enough that he decide he might as well stay and enjoy it. So, with one last glance at Jean-Claude's back, he walked to the edge and sat, legs dangling over the side.

The view was beautiful, like a sea of golden stars, the buildings were dark enough that they faded away, became almost invisible in the wash of light. It reminded Harry of flying over London, which made him wonder suddenly why he hadn't considered flying as an option tonight. Flying had always been a freeing experience for him and he hadn't flown in weeks, so taking a night to celebrate should have been the perfect opportunity for a broomstick ride. So why had he gone walking in the city instead?

"It is such a lovely night, mon sorcier," Jean-Claude said, startling Harry. The vampire had sat down a bit away from him, also daring to dangle his legs over the edge. "Yet you still look so solemn. May I ask what has you so distracted?"

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. "Just, thinking about some things.... Remembering."

"Remembering what, mon sorcier?"

Harry looked over at the vampire and was struck with an overwhelming urge to tell him everything. All the things he worried about but couldn't ever speak of with his best mates. Who would Jean-Claude tell after all? The Daily Prophet? The wizard community two states east? What would it matter if he did? Wizards didn't put much store in anything magical creatures had to say, even if it involved personal secrets of the "Vanquisher of Voldemort."

"Just..." Harry blew out a frustrated sigh. "Okay, so I had this girlfriend--"

"Ah, un problème de cœur ," Jean-Claude said with a smile. Harry thought it looked rather smug.

"What does that mean?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as Jean-Claude only shrugged.

"It is often one's relationships that cause difficulties in life, mon sorcier. Is that not so for all people?"

"I doubt anyone else has relationships as messed up as mine," Harry muttered darkly.

Jean-Claude chuckled. "I am certain every young person feels the same at some point in their own lives."

Harry glared at him. 'Young person?' Everyone the vampire met was a 'young person' to him!

"We broke up because I realized I was using her to get close to her family," he said shortly. "Then she had the gall to act as though I was a naive little child who didn't know how adult relationships work-- as if it's only expected for a mature adult to manipulate someone they say they love but don't."

"Ah," Jean-Claude said. The vampire went still and his face lost the teasing smile it had a moment before. But Harry wasn't finished.

"She acted like I was the one at fault for not continuing to pretend she was the one I wanted! One of my friends told me she'd been expecting me to propose, and I ruined it for her! Why is it more adult to want to be married to someone who doesn't love you?" he said furiously. All the buried frustration from the breakup just spilled out of him.

Harry had thought he was fine with the way things ended. He didn't mind what she'd said, because really he'd said some pretty awful things himself. He didn't mind that it'd taken Ron and the Weasleys a few days to talk to him again, because Ginny was their family, not him, and that was how things were. He didn't mind being uncomfortable around happy couples now, because they weren't the problem. He could also usually avoid them.

But what did bother him was that Ginny hadn't spoken to him once since then. He'd visited the Weasley's, he'd exchanged letters with everyone he knew, but Ginny didn't look at him, didn't write back. She just pretended he didn't exist, and that hurt.

"I suppose, mon sorcier, because it may be the adult thing to do, but not truly the mature thing," Jean-Claude said. "I wonder though, do you not love her?"

"What?" Harry frowned, not following.

"You say you both broke up because you were using her, yet she still wished to wed you, so really it was you who broke up with her, correct?"

"Well," Harry paused. Ginny had been very eager and vocal to proclaim his character flaws as ample reason for her to break up with him as soon as she realized Harry was serious about not staying with her, so he'd just considered the thing a mutual decision. "I don't think she wants to marry me anymore."

"But she did before," Jean-Claude said, watching Harry as he thought about it.

"Well, yeah."

"So you could have continued to use her had you wanted."

"But I didn't want to!" Harry said angrily. Jean-Claude held a hand up.

"So does that not mean that you love her at least somewhat?" he asked.

"Well, yeah, sure, I loved her, but not the way she wanted me to," Harry replied with a snort.

"Why not?"

Harry huffed and lay back on the cool metal of the arch. "I don't know, she was... well, brave and powerful and lovely and smart, and she could be funny sometimes and she invented some of her own spells." Harry grinned as he thought of how much fun he'd had with her, laughing at some comment or dueling together. She'd been one of his dearest friends.

"But she was also vindictive and judgmental and thoughtlessly cruel. She could call someone a friend but insult them behind their backs. She held grudges over matters that didn't even involve her!" Harry frowned as memories of how she'd brush off Neville and Luna came to mind, as well as the number of times she'd been offended on his behalf-- flattering when he was younger, but quickly becoming annoying as Harry grew out of his own sore skin. He found he forgave much easier than she did, and he didn't appreciate her defense nearly as much as he once had.

"I didn't really realize how much about her I disliked until she wanted to have sex and then I just," Harry stopped. It was difficult to talk about this part as he'd never had an opportunity to talk to anyone about it. Could never talk to anyone about it-- or at least, not anyone alive.

"I think she uses sex as a weapon," he said slowly.

"Oh?" Jean-Claude's voice came so softly, Harry almost missed it, would have if the wind hadn't been blowing toward him.

"I didn't want to have sex with her," Harry said, "but she wouldn't let it go. She kept bringing it up and cornering me and talking about it and... it was like she thought if she could just make me do it with her once, I'd never want to leave her."

"I see."

Harry couldn't stop frowning now, thinking of Ginny seriously, instead of trying to forget about her, brought up all the reasons for breaking up with her that he'd been pretending weren't real.

"She went out with a lot of the boys in my year at school and, I never thought there was anything wrong with that, but now I wonder what was going on. Some of the things she said...."

"What do you mean?" Jean-Claude asked when Harry didn't continue.

"Well, she was a witch... also," Harry caught himself just in time, "and sex can be used as a focus in some magic and... I think she wanted to use that sort of magic on me." He shrugged uneasily, still not sure if he should be saying this out loud. Jean-Claude certainly wouldn't understand, but in the wizarding world this was a pretty serious accusation, and Harry didn't think he would ever be comfortable thinking it about Ginny, never mind discussing it.

Jean-Claude was silent for a time, staring out over the city while Harry stared up at the empty sky. Funny how the more 'stars' people made on the earth, the more stars in the sky vanished. Only one or two faint pinpricks of light could be seen in an ocean of black.

"So you broke up with her because you discovered she was trying to manipulate you?" the vampire finally broke the silence.

"No. Yes..." Harry sighed. "I don't know." He rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "I wanted to break up as soon as I realized I didn't want to have sex with her-- when I realized I was willing to pretend to be her boyfriend enough to kiss her, but not any more than that. Then she just...."

"Would not allow you to simply walk away?" Jean-Claude supplied.

"Yeah."

They were silent again and Harry laced his fingers to cushion his head while he thought.

"You are truly an interesting person, Harry," Jean-Claude said just as Harry was starting to get comfortable with the silence. Harry glanced over at him. "You are very young, yet you treat life as one much older."

"Huh?"

Jean-Claude smiled at him, a smaller and simpler smile than the ones he'd given before. "I believe most young people would not have reacted quite so maturely to realizations such as yours. Most would likely continue on pretending they were in love, simply because the thought of such manipulations of emotion or sex would not occur to them as being evil. Or worse, they would believe themselves able to control such things. You did neither."

Harry frowned. "I don't get it, how could anyone think controlling a loved one like that is okay?"

"Ah, but you said you did not love your fair Ginny."

"Not the way she wanted me to." Harry shook his head and sat up. "But I still loved her as a friend. I didn't want to do something so horrible to her."

"Was it so horrible though?" Jean-Claude asked. He seemed oddly serious about the question. "As long as she was happy with you, would she truly be suffering?"

"Of course it's horrible! It's lying!" Harry stared at him. "Controlling someone by pretending you love them is just wrong! I couldn't do that to a friend and I wouldn't do it, even to someone I hated!"

"Alright, mon sorcier," Jean-Claude said, a hand raised to placate him. "You have made your point." Harry sat back and kicked his legs over the edge. He hadn't meant to get so upset. "However, I do wonder then, what caused your thoughts to turn to this girl?"

Harry blinked. "Um...."

Jean-Claude stared at him while Harry tried not to blush too badly, so embarrassed at the thought of admitting he'd run away from a hot date spot. Finally, the vampire turned back to the city with a sigh.

"I truly had not intended to bring up dark memories for you," he said.

"What?" Harry asked. Jean-Claude turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Surely this is why you were so curt with me before, mon sorcier," Jean-Claude said.

Harry's eyes widened. Oh yeah.... He'd forgotten that Jean-Claude's entire reason for meeting him before was to manipulate him with sex-- whether he wanted to or not. "Well, it's not really your fault, and I am sorry."

"I know." Jean-Claude shrugged placidly, a smile coming back to his face. "I would only like to make it clear that I am sorry as well."

"Oh, alright." Harry rubbed his head. This was awkward. "Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter anymore anyway, what with your master having some other witch now."

"Yes, although he is not a witch," Jean-Claude said. "He is an animator."

"A what?"

"Surely you have heard of animators before, mon sorcier?" Jean-Claude's eyes held laughter when they turned to him. "You have not always lived so isolated, being attached to phone lines and ice cream as you are, correct?"

Harry glared at him and pursed his lips. "Look, I just don't know what that means in terms of magic, alright?"

"What do you imagine it could mean?"

Harry huffed. "I don't know, someone who enchants objects or something?"

Jean-Claude laughed, startling Harry. The sound of it was thick, almost velvety, and ran down his spine with a shiver. "Oh, mon sorcier, what an idea!" The vampire calmed down enough to look at him. "Have you truly never heard of magic to raise the dead?" he asked with a smile.

Harry felt the blood drain out of his face as he stared at the vampire. "A necromancer?"

Jean-Claude's face fell empty. "What is wrong, mon sorcier? You taste of fear. I assure you, my Master's new ally is not so powerful to be a necromancer. He is only an average animator, nothing more."

"I--" Harry sucked in a breath and waited for his heart to slow down. "The last time I dealt with a necromancer, he... was a terrible evil. He filled a cave with hundreds of people he killed so he could raise them as an army."

"I had not heard of such an occurrence," Jean-Claude said quietly. "I have not heard of any necromancers alive in the world for centuries."

Harry scoffed. Of course a muggle vampire wouldn't hear of them-- most of them started out as witches and wizards! "He was killed before he could attack any large populations and his creations were destroyed with him. As for others, last I heard there was one necromancer hiding somewhere in the Russian wilds." Harry shrugged. "Those are the only two I know about from this century."

"How do you hear of such things, if I may ask?"

"Just because I live like a hermit doesn't mean I don't pay attention to the world around me," Harry said.

"Hence your insight to the maneuvers of the factions from the city around you," Jean-Claude said, a small smirk aimed at him.

Harry sniffed. "Okay, so maybe I payed better attention to such things when I actually knew people I could talk to. I'm still getting used to being a hermit you know."

"Oh, I can tell, mon sorcier." Jean-Claude's smile widened. "You are slowly weaning yourself off of civilization. Once you learn to go a month or more without ice cream, you shall relocate to a desert!"

"You--!" Harry glared at the silently laughing vampire. "Don't poke fun if you don't know what you're missing. Have you ever even tasted ice cream?"

"Alas, no. Such a confection was invented long after I traded human delicacies for human blood. I shall never know what sweetness your icy treat holds!" Jean-Claude was definitely laughing at him, but he also seemed to be having fun, playing up the sorrow of his situation.

Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing.

* * *

When Harry finally returned home that night (or early morning, depending how you looked at it), the thestrals were already sleeping and never emerged from the barn as he snuck inside. He and Jean-Claude had continued speaking, turning to more trivial matters, for another hour or so. Then, after carrying Harry back down the arch, Jean-Claude left him and Harry found a dark nook behind some bushes to disapparate.

He thought about the evening and his odd relationship with Jean-Claude as he got ready for bed. He'd thought the vampire was only interested in him because he was ordered to be, or if not, then just as food. But he honestly seemed to be personally interested in Harry himself, and Harry couldn't understand why.

As late as it was, Harry stayed awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. When he didn't have to worry about being eaten, Jean-Claude was, well, not so bad to talk to. He was even sort of nice. Especially when he wasn't exuding sex like some magical perfume. He was funny and sarcastic and clever.

But Harry knew better than to really trust him. He was a vampire after all, and vampires only really cared about themselves and their next meal.

Yet even while telling himself this as he fell asleep, Harry couldn't help but hope he would see Jean-Claude again soon.

 


	7. Quiet Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry needs a better hobby. Or any hobby really.

  
Chapter 7- Quiet Days

 

The next day Harry went about his chores, tending the vegetable patch and the animals while the thestrals played around him, and thought about what in his life here made him happy. He wasn't hounded by the press, well-wishers, or Ministry lackeys and nothing was expected of him. He could do whatever he pleased whenever he wished without interruption-- relaxing with a nap, chasing the thestrals through the woods, reading up on new spell creation, or even practicing his own spellwork inside or out-- he had total freedom.

The solitude was wonderful in its own way, and with weekly phone calls from at least one of his friends he never felt lonely. In fact, if anything bothered him it was the quiet. Well, not quite. It was more like the thought of the quiet bothering him, that bothered him.

Sometimes Harry worried he'd grow bored, that the quiet would become too much and he'd miss all the nuisances of his life surrounded by witches and wizards. So far though, the quiet was suiting him just fine, and it was so unlike Harry's life before that it kept surprising him.

Of course, the excitement of moving in, setting up, and securing a steady food source for his companions had collided neatly with his meet-up with the local vampires, so maybe he just never found the time to truly relax and sink into monotony. But he didn't think so.

Last night though, had forced him to realize a few things, not just about him and Ginny, but about what he wasn't doing to make his life here really his and not just a never-ending holiday. Frankly put, his forays to town were never with any greater purpose than just to wander. He wasn't meeting anyone, or looking for anything, or even because he really wanted to-- it was just a distraction that made him feel like he belonged.

But considering the reaction his presence got from the vampires around, that just wasn't true. He was essentially a hermit to all the vaguely magical groups in the city, except he kept making random visits to various areas that even he couldn't predict.

A few habits that allowed him to safely interact with local magical creatures and muggles wouldn't go amiss, and Jean-Claude seemed pleasant enough in this regard, so Harry figured he wouldn't mind running into him again. Also, seeing as the "master of the city" had declared negotiations with him off, Harry hoped it wouldn't associate him too closely with the vampires, while still allowing him access to the local gossip.

By late afternoon, Harry had both come to a decision he hoped would turn out well for him, as well as taken care of all the day to day chores for the farm. There was just one last thing to take care of. As an apology for the loss of the thestrals' apples, Harry had acquired a whole cow carcass, a treat they normally got once a month. The last carrion he'd given them had only been two weeks ago, so the thestrals were very excited, chirping and trotting around him as he levitated it out to a clearing in the woods where they could pick at it as they pleased.

As soon as he set the carcass on the ground, all four thestrals were on it, tearing out chunks and whinnying to each other in pleasure. Harry shook his head and walked over to an older pile of bones and rotting flesh to check on their last treat. The thestrals really needed a whole month to fully devour the carcass so there was certainly more of it left than he usually saw.

"I hope you lot aren't going to ignore this one now that you've got a second," he said.

Therdad immediately raised his head from the feeding with a cry and flew over to the mess Harry was standing by. He was nearly shoved out of the way when Therdad moved in to rip bits of rotting something out of the pile.

"Ugh, I wasn't going to take it away, you know," Harry hurried back to the edge of the clearing, "I just want to make sure you eat everything. Don't leave too much behind for me to clean up, or I'm never getting you a second cow again!"

That got the other's attention, Rigel raised his head to turn it over his shoulder and bay at him, while Azeilah and Bob neighed their own protests and stomped their hooves. Therdad, the glutton, just shoved his head further into the older carrion as if determined to finish it so Harry would bring more cows next month. Harry gave an exasperated shake of his head and walked back to the house with a grin.

It didn't take long to rummage through the hall closet before he found his Firebolt, tucked away behind some cloaks and a pair of boots. The wood was warm in his hands and he swore it hummed softly as he pulled it out. He'd really missed flying.

After one quick detour to his bedroom closet for his Cloak, he felt ready to go and hurried downstairs with his broom. But as he reached the ground floor, a ringing from the kitchen made him pause.

There were only a handful of people in the world who knew Harry's number, so he rushed to answer it, realizing as he did, what with all the excitement from the vampires, he'd not had a call from his friends for almost two weeks.

"Hello?" Harry reached the phone mid-ring, so he hoped he'd picked up in time.

"Hello, Harry!" Hermione's voice made him smile. "How are you?"

"Alright, where have you been then?" he asked.

"Oh! I've got such great news to tell you!" Hermione gushed. "I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, I just got so caught up!"

"You got caught up with what?" Harry was curious now. Anything Hermione got involved in was bound to be interesting and magical to boot.

"Well," Hermione started, and Harry could hear the grin in her voice, "I was recruited to be transfiguration professor at Hogwarts next year!"

Harry laughed, of course. "That's brilliant Hermione! You just turned twenty, I'll bet you're the youngest professor the school's ever had!"

"Well, I won't exactly be starting yet," Hermione said happily. "I mean, I'll be attending classes as an assistant, training you see, up until January, maybe February if I can manage it, then when the baby is born, I'll take off until next September when I'll be on a half-time teaching status."

"Half-time?"

"Yes, I won't live at the school, and I'll only teach Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday classes, Professor McGonagoll will teach the rest, in addition to her Headmistress duties, and I'll be at home with the baby and all the grading!" Hermione sounded absolutely ecstatic at the mention of homework.

"How are you and Ron going to take care of the baby during the week?" Harry asked with a frown. "You both work then."

"Molly said she'll help," Hermione replied. "She's very excited about it you know. Fluer told me she's offered the same with her baby. We think she just really wants to have children around again, she's been a bit lonely, ever since Ginny left-- Oh!"

Harry grimaced, but tried to keep his voice flat and even. "Well, it's nice of her to want to help so much. I know that'll make things so much easier for you and Ron, and for Fluer and Bill."

"Yes," Hermione said hesitantly. "Yes, well, anyway, that wasn't the only thing I had to tell you."

"Oh?"

"Ron also has great news!" she said, excited again. "He wanted to tell you himself, but, well...."

"He couldn't come with you?" Harry asked, a bit sadly, since this meant Ron had not come with Hermione to use her parents' phone, and that would make it almost two months since they had spoken.

"Well, no, sorry. It's just, he's so busy now! He's on an accelerated training program because he's been selected for promotion in the Auror corps!"

"Really?" Harry was astonished. Ron had only finished the Auror training program in April, and only three months later he was being promoted?

"Yes!" Hermione said proudly. "He does splendidly in field work, he can organize and direct better than any of the other new recruits, and better than a lot of the older Aurors too! He even does a good job on his paperwork," Hermione confided, sounding more impressed with that than any other of her husband's achievements. "The Auror director decided that with all Ron's experience during the war, staying in the lower levels wasn't really challenging him any, so, in four months he'll be head of his own troop!"

"That's, that's... amazing, Hermione! Just amazing!" Harry was truly impressed. His friends were really moving forward in their careers, and their lives.

"He is really sorry he couldn't tell you himself," Hermione said again. "It was a total surprise for him, the director only told him last week and since then, it's been nothing but training, training, training! There's a lot he has to know in order to be a troop captain."

"That's alright, I know he's working hard. You too, soon as September comes around, you'll be too busy to even see straight, never mind get updates on my boring, everyday life," Harry teased her.

"No! I mean we are, but, no! I do love hearing how you're doing Harry, you know that!" Hermione said quickly. "And Ron really does miss talking to you! He was saying it would be nice if we installed our own line, so you could call us, instead of waiting for one of us to have time to come over to my parents' house."

"Your own phone line?" Harry asked, touched by the thought. "You two live in a magical area, is there even a phone line near you?"

"Well," Hermione said hesitantly. "There is a line a few houses away, but... I think, if we can get a magical connection going, like with the radio, then it might work."

"That would be wonderful," Harry said, and he meant it. If his friends' lives were going to be changing this fast, then he wanted to know as soon as possible.

"Yes, it would. I'm sorry we can't speak as often as we'd like, Harry. But, you know, if you moved back--"

"No, Hermione," Harry interrupted her. "I know, you want me to be near and safe, and I miss you too. But, despite how hard it is to get in touch, I am truly happy here." Harry hesitated. "I like the quiet, oddly enough. Besides, I've put a lot of effort into warding this place, it would be a shame to leave it now."

"I know, I know," Hermione fretted. "It's just, I feel sometimes like I can't reach you anymore, and that worries me, as much as it worries me you being surrounded by people and creatures who might hurt you, and I can't do anything about it!"

"Well, maybe it will make you feel better to know, I did update my wards this week, and I even learned some new defense spells," Harry said.

"You did?" Hermione sounded practically incredulous. "Wait, why? Did something happen?"

"What? No! I was merely following your advice, honest."

"You never follow my advice!"

"Do too!"

"Do not! You only follow my advice when you run into trouble!"

Harry winced. She had him there.

"Well, this time I decided you had a point, and the wards never can be too safe!"

"Harry," Hermione said seriously, "did you have a run-in of some kind?"

"What? No! Of course not! I just felt like practicing some magic, really."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "You weren't attacked by any muggles, or werebats, or vampires, or anything?"

"Werebats?"

"There's lots of different were creatures, Harry, now answer the question!"

Harry sighed. How was his friend so very perceptive? "I promise you Hermione, I have absolutely no problems with any muggles, weres, or vampires-- at all!"

"If you're sure," Hermione said, not sounding at all convinced.

"I am. Promise!" Harry only hoped that he continued not having any problems, and then, hopefully, Hermione would never find out what really happened.

"Well, alright. But, you'll tell me if anything does happen, right? You know you can call my parents and they'll tell me immediately!"

"I will," Harry promised.

"Alright then," Hermione said slowly, then she sighed. "Well, I have to go. You are really doing alright, aren't you Harry?"

"I am, Hermione, better than ever in fact! I was just about to do some flying before you called."

"I see," Hermione said, and Harry could tell he'd made her smile. "In that case, have fun, Harry!"

"I will," Harry said. "Tell Ron congratulations for me!"

"I will."

"And Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Good job yourself. You're going to be a brilliant professor."

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione's voice was back to sounding like the cheerful, carefree witch who'd called him.

Once goodbyes were said, they both hung up, and Harry stood by the phone, giving a sigh of relief. He was always happy to hear from his friends, especially when they had such good news to share, but he never wanted them to find out about his recent encounters with vampires. It would only prove to them that it wasn't a good idea for him to live so far away.

But he liked it here, really liked it. This was his home now, at least, it was finally beginning to feel like a home, one that was just for him. So, he would find a way to deal with the vampires on his own, and any other groups that tried to meet him, and he would keep telling his friends that everything was fine.

Lying wasn't his favorite thing in the world, particularly to his friends, but if it would protect his home, he'd do it.

Harry shook himself off, reminding himself that he had plans for the rest of the day, then he was outside mounting his broom, spells cast, Cloak on, and ready to push off.

Which of course had to be when Azeilah came trotting out of the tree-line. She snorted as she came up to him, curious about the empty looking space over the barely visible broom between his legs.

"Hey!" Harry laughed as her soft, tipped mouth nosed at the cloth over his head, brushing it off and revealing his transparent floating head. "Knock it off," he said as the thestral took the opportunity to mouth his hair-- right after a snack, this left streaks of blood and less pleasant things behind. "Come on, I'm trying to go out!"

He finally managed to get her off him long enough to scorgify his head, but she still stood too close, just staring at him with those wide, white eyes. Harry huffed and yanked his hood back up.

"I'm just going to fly around, see how far I feel like going before I get tired."

This got a gentle whuff from her, but nothing more. Harry sighed. "Do you want to come along?"

Azeilah whinnied and did a dancing hop with her forelegs kicking out, so Harry just shook his head and moved the cloak aside so his wand arm could peek out.

"Alright, just let me change the charm first, I think it would be better if you were invisible too."

A few quick waves, and an extra charm or two, made sure Azeilah would be as unnoticeable as possible. Ready to go at last, Harry straightened his cloak again, applied a light sticking charm to keep it in place, then shot up into the sky.

The rush of wind as Harry rose above the trees and circled up, up, up into the air was glorious. He didn't stop until the hot summer air turned cooler and a sharp breeze tugged at his Cloak, allowing occasional flashes of his shimmering, see-through feet to peek out. This high up though, Harry didn't mind. Maybe a passing plane could catch sight of him, but no one on the ground could.

Harry sat a moment, looking out over the world below, the dot that was his home and the forest sprawling around it. He could just barely make out the road to his farm winding down to a larger road that cut through the woods, curving around and connecting isolated mansions and farms with nearby shopping areas. Further south, he could also see the highway, full of cars, cutting through trees and buildings in long graceful arcs all the way to St. Louis, and beside it, shining like a hundred spotlights from the sunlight glistening off the surface, was the Mississippi River.

Azeilah caught up with him then and swooped a long circle around him, sharp whinnies and the snapping of her mane and tail in the wind the only indication she was there. Harry gave a 'whoop!' and shot forward, his broom cutting through the air. Together, wizard and thestral played in the clouds, twirling and zooming around each other in a mad chase, slowly circling their way toward the city.

All of Harry's worries and thoughts vanished in the sky. Flying was freedom, it was joy, there was nothing in the world that could touch him while he flew. He should have done this months ago, and every day since! As long as he put good charms on and wore his Cloak, he would never have to worry about being caught by muggles, or anyone.

In fact, he could probably even fly all the way to St. Louis like this, nevermind just flitting about over his farm. Harry drew up from a dive to hover, easily thirty meters over the ground still, to look around. He'd flown over the highway, cars rushing and honking at each other below him, and before him lay the city, loud and bright and tantalizingly close.

Harry grinned. "Hey, Azeilah!" He waited for the thestral to wing nearer and give a curious neigh. "Catch me if you can!" he shouted, then he was off, Firebolt carrying him forward faster than the wind.

A shrill cry behind him was all the warning Harry got before Azeilah over took him, wide wings swooping over his head and making his Cloak rustle, then she was gone. Harry urged his broom faster, faster, trying to catch up with the faint sound of her wing beats.

The trouble with racing an invisible opponent is, of course, that you never really know who's ahead or behind. So, the faster Harry flew on his broom, the more the wind beat against his ears, and he lost all sense of where exactly Azeilah was. But that wasn't really the point of this game anyway.

Harry flew on, as fast as he pleased, laughing and dodging invisible assailants that may as well have been his thestral trying to cut in front of him, and he zigged and zagged his way to the river. Over the water then became a neck and neck race for the finish, Harry directing his Firebolt to shoot as fast as it could straight along the river, until, at the last moment, he curved into a breakneck corner to fly under the Arch and finally come to a stop.

Harry grinned wildly, and gave a few loop-de-loops to celebrate the end of the race. Then he flew up to the top of the arch and landed. The view during the day was just as impressive as at night, though not in the same way. Now, the city and the land and the river were all bright and shining, instead of dark and lit by glowing lights. The setting sun over the city was so bright and hot though, that Harry had to turn and look out over the river side of the city. Across the river was the other half of St. Louis, except, as far as Harry could understand it, it wasn't really part of the city, but another city entirely because it was in another state. This didn't make much sense to Harry, but he didn't think this sort of thing happened back in Britain.

Harry sat down to admire the view anyway, adding a cooling charm under his Cloak while he did. It might have been marvelously cool last night, but now the sun had made this place as hot as the ground over a car park. The wind this high up was keeping it bearable, but a charm made it the perfect place to relax.

The clatter of hooves atop the metal arch signaled Azeilah's landing, though Harry stayed as he was, enjoying the breeze and watching the light change over land and sky as the sun set behind him. The thestral didn't seem to mind anyway; there was a click-clack of steps coming up next to him, then quiet as she too settled in to admire the view.

This really was a great place, isolated and beautiful, where Harry could let go of any worries and just enjoy the world. He'd have to thank Jean-Claude for showing it to him. Although, despite his plan to start an acquaintance with him, Harry refused to go back to that dance club again, so he had no idea when he'd see the vampire next.

Harry snorted. He supposed it would be too much to hope for Jean-Claude to just show up at the Arch when he happened to be there, nevermind it was still daylight. But it was either that, or Harry could go back into the vampire district and hope Jean-Claude wandered out onto the street as he passed by.

Harry sighed and lay back on the warm metal to watch the sky above turn gold and crimson. That scenario was unlikely if only because it had already happened. It didn't really matter. He had his whole life to build connections here, one vampire wouldn't make any difference.

The wisps of clouds overhead were turning a deeper shade of red while the sky around them grew darker with every passing moment. Azeilah lowered herself beside him with a whuff, laying her head across his chest. Harry smiled softly and petted her. Together, they watched the sky turn black and the few, faint stars pinprick through the dark.

Harry must have dozed off not long after, because the next thing he knew, Azeilah was shrieking and kicked him in the ribs as she got up. He coughed and gasped, turning over and holding his sides in pain. A second cry, more human than thestral, made him look back.

"Stop!" he coughed out. Harry forced himself up, rubbed the growing bruise under his arm, and called out loudly. "Azeilah! Stop it, right now!"

Azeilah, still invisible, clanged her hooves and gave a questioning neigh. Jean-Claude, taking his chance to escape the angry thestral, made that eye-blurring movement over to the edge of the Arch apex. Sharp hoof beats followed him before Harry called the thestral back again. She returned to Harry's side, nudging him gently where he was holding himself, obviously confused.

"Sorry," Harry said, wincing at Azeilah's attention. He put an arm over her neck in the hope she would stay still.

There was no answer from the vampire, so Harry turned to look at him.

"Sorry," he said again. "We didn't know you'd be here."

Still nothing. So much for Harry's plan. Being a hermit was easier anyway.

"We'll leave. Sorry for scaring you." Harry turned around to pick up his broom and the Cloak that had fallen loose when he got up.

"It is certainly a surprise, mon sorcier." Jean-Claude's voice was low and flat behind him. "I had not thought you could get both yourself and your horse up here alone."

Harry winced again and tightened his fist in Azeilah's mane. "Well, it... uh, we sort of..." Harry trailed off. What could he say?

"I'm sure keeping your beast unseen helped a great deal, but I do wonder how ever you managed to carry it up here on only a broomstick." Jean-Claude's voice was perfectly serious, but his face held a smirk and dancing eyes. He raised a hand to trail along that smirk to swipe a drop of blood off his mouth. The bloodied finger was sucked past his lips and Harry had to look away.

"Er...," he said. Next to him, Azeilah snorted furiously and shook her head, and he nearly lost his grip on her. "Right.... Sorry."

"No need to keep apologizing, mon sorcier. This is a public landmark, I've no more right to it than you."

"Er, right."

Harry was stuck. This was sort of what he'd wanted, while also being absolutely the last thing he'd wanted. How was he supposed to get the vampire to talk about the magical factions in the city if he kept getting hurt around him?

It didn't help that Jean-Claude was as easy to read as a Slytherin ghost. First he was angry, then he was scared, next thing you knew, he was laughing at you!

"I only mean, mon sorcier, that I am perfectly happy to share the view with you."

Harry blinked. What?

Jean-Claude's smirk softened and he lowered his gaze. "I would not have shared it in the first place if I wished to keep it to myself. You may stay."

Harry was pretty sure that Jean-Claude had said earlier that he didn't have any right to kick him off public property, but just now it seemed like he was generously inviting Harry to his private sitting room.

"Er, thanks," he said. Now it was too awkward to leave. Perfect.

The vampire nodded at him and then just stood there, watching him. Harry wondered what he was expected to do and stayed where he was, silent and staring back.

"Is your horse calm now, mon sorcier?" Jean-Claude finally asked.

Harry glanced at the empty space where his arm wrapped over Azeilah's long neck. She was utterly still, a clear sign she wasn't too happy, but she was staying placidly beside him, so that was good enough.

"Yeah, yeah, a bit," he replied.

"If I may ask, how did you bring it up here, and why?"

"Why...?" Harry tried to think, but there was really nothing that could get him out of this. Admit the truth, or look like a spontaneous lunatic? Well, Jean-Claude already knew his horses ate meat. Flying was perfectly normal next to that.

"Yes. Do you not have any company to keep, other than these creatures, mon sorcier?"

"Well, no, actually," Harry said. "Though it's not like I brought her with me by choice. She just decided to come with me." He took a deep breath. "We flew here."

Jean-Claude stared at him for a moment. Then he threw back his head and laughed. The sound of it was deep and melodious, and it sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

"Flying horses? Carnivorous, flying horses, mon sorcier?" Jean-Claude gasped and leaned over as he laughed. Harry didn't think it was really that funny. Maybe he'd broken the vampire? "Ah, it is no wonder you are not at all distressed by a mere master vampire's attentions, not with creatures such as these for companions."

"I was distressed enough," Harry said sourly. Frankly, vampires were far more problematic in his mind than thestrals.

"If this blasé, abrupt attitude of yours is a sign of distress, mon sorcier, I wonder what you are like in a full panic." The vampire had stopped laughing, but now he was smiling at Harry as he shook his head, fangs flashing at the corners.

Harry huffed. "I'm just like everyone else, I panic, that's all."

"I'm not sure I believe that, mon sorcier," Jean-Claude said speculatively. "After all, you deal with your distress by learning to call fire and eating ice cream."

Harry snorted. Seemed the vampire wouldn't be forgetting his indulgence anytime soon.

"I learned to call sunlight, not fire. I could already do fire."

Jean-Claude scoffed. "Of course you could, how foolish of me to think otherwise."

"There's no need to be snide about it."

"I would hardly call that 'snide,' mon sorcier," Jean-Claude said.

"Well, what would you call it then?"

"Blunt."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "You're really strange, you know that?"

"I, mon sorcier?" Jean-Claude waved at him. "Next to yourself, who could possibly tell?"

"I am boringly normal, thanks," Harry said with a grin. "I live on a tiny farm and do absolutely nothing interesting with my life."

"Except fly with your magical horse to the top of a national landmark and terrorize innocent vampires."

Harry tried to keep his face straight, but Jean-Claude wore such a contrived expression of woe, that he lost it and burst out laughing. Azeilah huffed at him and shook her head in confusion, while across from him Jean-Claude smirked triumphantly.

"Innocent, huh?" Harry finally got out when his laughter quieted. "Not as far as Azeilah's concerned you aren't."

"What offense could I possibly have made to your so-sweet beast, if I may ask?" Jean-Claude said incredulously.

Harry grinned at him. "You ate all the blood apples. She and the other three are holding quite the grudge over it."

Jean-Claude stared at him in shock. "But, you are the one who gave them to me! Surely it is not fair for all the blame to be laid at my feet!"

"Oh, don't worry. They were cross with me too," Harry said happily. "But I already bought them off with a peace offering."

"A peace offering, mon sorcier?"

"A dead cow. They were thrilled." Harry rolled his eyes. "The others are probably still gorging themselves."

"My," Jean-Claude said, eyes wide enough to reflect the light shining up from below.

Harry shrugged. He'd long since got used to the thestrals' diet, so it hardly bothered him anymore.

"Well, if it is not too late, I hope that your bloodthirsty beasts will allow me to make my own peace offering?" Jean-Claude made a cautious bow to the space under Harry's arm. "Another cow perhaps?"

That got Azeilah's attention. She whuffed quietly and took a step forward. Harry tugged gently at her mane, not sure if that had been an inquisitive step or a threatening one.

"Not this month," Harry said sternly. "They already got two and I doubt they can finish a third so soon."

Azeilah whinnied nasally and bumped her head into his chest, knocking him back a step.

"I said, no!" Harry glared.

"I take it this means my offer would not be rejected?" Jean-Claude asked bemusedly. Harry turned his glare on him. "Not immediately, of course, but after the month is out."

Azeilah neighed and butted her head against him.

"Oh, fine!" Harry said, pushing her off him. He wasn't too worried about her going after Jean-Claude again, not if he was promising a cow in the future.

"Splendid!" Jean-Claude smiled widely and bowed. "You shall have to give me an appropriate date, mon sorcier, so that I may be sure to send it when it will be most appreciated."

"Yeah, whatever," Harry grumbled. Azeilah whinnied happily and flapped out her wings so a gust of wind nearly tore his Cloak out of his hands. He bundled it tightly and tucked it under his arm, shifting his broomstick so it propped against his shoulder.

Jean-Claude walked over to him, glancing at Azeilah's hidden form curiously, before settling on him.

"So, might I ask, what brought you back here so soon?"

Harry shrugged. "It's a nice spot, is all. Felt like flying today, then we just ended up here and watched the sun set."

"Then you are well, mon sorcier?"

"Yeah," Harry frowned, "why wouldn't I be?"

The vampire shrugged delicately. "I thought, perhaps, more troubling memories had driven you to solitude."

"No." Harry said. "Just felt like flying."

"Ah," Jean-Claude said.

They stood for another moment, in awkward silence. Harry wasn't sure what the vampire was thinking, his expression was so pleasantly empty, it reminded him of his first meeting with Jean-Claude.

"Er... how is the police investigation going?"

It was all Harry could think of; that blank smile seemed too impenetrable for him to start asking about the city witches, or werewolves, or whatever, that Harry might talk to. But the question seemed to be a good idea as it made Jean-Claude smile a little more warmly.

"Almost wrapped up, so I am told, and I did not even lose any of my employees this time."

"This time?"

"Oh, that was a while back," Jean-Claude said, titling his head in thought. "One of my dancers was connected to a crime the police were investigating. Now it is simply police policy to thoroughly interview all my employees every time an investigation leads to my door. Just in case."

"And that's why your business was pretty much dead yesterday?" Harry asked slowly.

Jean-Claude nodded. "As I employ the second largest concentration of vampires in one business, this... 'precaution'... tends to take longer than it does for most other businesses in the District."

"Really?" Harry said doubtfully.

"So I am told." Jean-Claude smiled blankly at him.

Harry rolled his eyes. Well, it wasn't exactly a surprise that muggles would discriminate against other races the same as wizards-- humans were much the same no matter what. But, he was a little surprised at how calmly the vampires were putting up with it. If Aurors had done something like this at a goblin or dwarf business, it'd have started a war.

"So, do they do this to other businesses, like... werewolves, or witches, or anything?" Harry asked.

"Hmm," Jean-Claude tapped a finger against his chin. "I am quite sure they would do this to the various were owned businesses in the city... if they knew which they were." The vampire smiled. "However, the shapeshifters do put some effort into disguising themselves, so I've not seen it happen."

"And witches?"

Jean-Claude shrugged. "Witches and other magic users in the city do not seem to operate businesses that may be abused in this manner. So far as I know, they all trade amongst themselves from their own homes and common meeting places."

"So, you do know some witches?" Harry said. He tried to squash the lilt of interest out of his voice, but he could tell by the sudden focus in Jean-Claude's eyes, it had been noticed anyway.

"Why, mon socier, are you trying to get a vampire to introduce you to the local witch community?"

"No." Harry coughed and turned to look out over the riverside. "I was just curious, that's all."

"I see." Jean-Claude stepped next to him. "Then... you are not still lonely, I suppose?"

"No!" Harry glared at the vampire.

"Oh? Not bored either?" Jean-Claude was grinning so wide, his fangs should have been showing, but somehow, they stayed safely hidden.

"I am perfectly capable of entertaining myself, thank you!" Harry said stiffly.

"Of course, mon sorcier." Jean-Claude nodded pleasantly at him. "But, sometimes it might be... enjoyable to seek company with someone to hold a conversation, and your horses," Jean-Claude gestured toward the place Azeilah had been standing earlier, "though admirable companions in most other respects, do not quite fulfill this one role."

Harry refused to look at the vampire, knowing his face would give away his thoughts as it so often did, so he didn't notice Jean-Claude leaning toward him until he was pressed against his side.

"Hey!" Harry jerked away, which only seemed to amuse the vampire. He glared. "So, what?"

"So, mon sorcier," Jean-Claude said with a smirk, "if your wish is to find reliable company to meet with, you need only ask."

Harry frowned. He hated that he was so easy to read, and that Jean-Claude was so very, very difficult to figure out. But that was exactly what Harry wanted. If that turned out to be what Jean-Claude wanted as well, it should work out perfectly.

At least, so long as Harry could stop the vampire from manipulating him into anything he didn't want to do, it would be just great.

"And, you're only too happy to volunteer yourself, I suppose?" Harry asked, knowing what the vampire would say.

"But of course, mon sorcier." Jean-Claude smiled. "Whenever I have the time, I should delight in pleasant company myself, and you are most pleasant to speak to."

"Right," Harry said doubtfully. "But aren't you, I don't know, busy a lot of the time? I don't want to take you away from your work just to hang about."

"Don't you also have a great deal of work to tend to, mon sorcier? Tending to your farm must occupy much of your time."

"It's a small farm," Harry said. "Nothing at all like running a business, I'm sure."

"Ah! What a coincidence," Jean-Claude said. "It is a small business."

Harry frowned at the smug vampire. "You know, it would probably be easier for both of us, if you just pointed me towards some witches, or anything really. I mean, no offense, but I'm not really much of a night person."

"I'm quite certain of that, mon sorcier, considering this is the second-- no, third night I have met you out and about in little more than two weeks."

"Why do you even want to talk to me?" Harry argued. "Seems like every time we meet up, you get bloodied or insulted."

Harry wasn't sure anymore that starting a friendship with a vampire was such a smart thing to do-- especially if the vampire thought it was a good idea. But, he'd been a little too obvious in his desire to form connections with magical groups, so now, the damn vampire wasn't letting go! Harry wondered if insulting Jean-Claude would even work now, or if he was going to be stuck with this creature who was clearly much better than he at manipulation and social maneuvering.

"Because, mon sorcier, you are not the only one in the world who is sometimes lonely, or bored, and wishes for a companion who expects nothing more of you than company."

Harry frowned at Jean-Claude, who watched him quietly. This was turning out just great. Not only could the vampire manipulate him by being confusing, he could manipulate him by being pitiable too!

Harry sighed and turned toward the river. "Yeah, fine." He sat down on the edge of the Arch with a huff. "But if you keep this act up and start crying or something, I'm going back to hermit-ing."

"Oh, mon sorcier, it is a wonder you do not have more friends." Jean-Claude laughed and sat next to him. "Your heart bleeds with shared sorrow for all around you!"

"As long as my neck doesn't start bleeding, that's fine with me," Harry said.

 


	8. Dark Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't trust vampires. Ever.

  
Chapter 8-- Dark Nights

  
Meeting up with a vampire every couple of nights turned out to be pretty easy to fit into Harry's life. He did chores, gardening, cleaning, feeding the animals, carving up the occasional goat or pig for the thestrals, and he read, magical tomes and muggle fiction, and he practiced spells, and he took walks, and went flying. He looked forward to the weekly calls from his friends, still just Hermione, but everyone was working out schedules to phone him together. And every couple of nights, mostly on weeknights because Jean-Claude was so busy on weekends, he and the vampire would meet up at the top of the Arch and just... talk.

Harry would show up first, invisible and more often forgoing his broom to ride one of the thestrals, who were very excited to be flying off to the city and would, after greeting Jean-Claude much more gently now he'd promised a cow in the future, fly off to play in the skies and the alleyways of St. Louis. Jean-Claude, for his part, would turn up perhaps an hour after sunset, taking his usual route of running preternaturally fast up the side of the Arch and somehow always being impeccably dressed and relaxed despite the exertion.

After only a couple weeks of this Harry was already used to it and had started bringing a book to read while waiting for the vampire to show. Nothing magical, of course, because he still didn’t think it was a good idea to get too casual with Jean-Claude. But silly muggle fantasy books were alright to bring.

Therdad huffed next to him and got up with a clatter. When Harry looked up, he could just make out a shadow landing on the Arch nearby and got up as well.

“You’re rather late,” he said. “I got through nearly two chapters.”

“My apologies, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude replied with a short bow. Therdad, invisible but still clattering loudly moved behind the vampire to bump him. Jean-Claude turned slightly and patted the thestral. “I hope I am not taking you away from such a fascinating novel?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Harry shrugged and both of them listened as Therdad eagerly took off to romp around town while they sat about chatting.

“Are you quite sure, mon sorcier?” Jean-Claude asked teasingly. “I would hate to interrupt such marvelous research.”

Harry glanced at him. “It’s not that funny, you know.”

“Oh?” the vampire grinned. “Perhaps not ‘funny’ but certainly entertaining, mon sorcier.”

“Whatever. I’m sure you do the same thing sometimes.”

“I, mon sorcier? However could I offer such passionate critique of magical mistakes in fiction, I have no where near your level of knowledge,” Jean-Claude laughed as he sat down on the edge of the Arch, looking over the glowing city.

Harry rolled his eyes but joined him. “It was one time, and it was really stupid. Familiars that used to be human and speak English?” Harry scoffed. “And anyway, I meant with fictional vampires. I bet you do the same thing with those.”

Jean-Claude considered it, taking up a thoughtful pose. “I suppose I might find certain representations of vampires to be somewhat ludicrous, however, I do not believe I have ever spent thirty minutes discussing the magical theory which makes those representations impossible, mon sorcier.” He relaxed and gave Harry a soft smile. “Nor do I believe I have ever insisted a poor passerby must listen to examples and exerts to compare and then sit through a very thorough lesson on transformation and familiar bonding.”

“I bet if vampires in fiction were this weird you would,” Harry muttered, glaring out at the city lights.

Jean-Claude laughed and leaned back on his hands. “Oh, mon sorcier, I assure you, vampires in popular fiction can be very strange. People will always imagine far more amazing possibilities than what they are shown.”

Harry scoffed. “There's nothing amazing about turning someone into a bird and keeping them as a pet.”

“Certainly, I have found at least that reality far exceeds my imagination, mon sorcier.”

Harry blinked and turned to find Jean-Claude watching him with a strange expression. “How?”

“Well, mon sorcier, your companions may never have been human, but they can fly, they eat flesh, and they turn invisible. Truly that is more amazing than a storybook, wouldn’t you agree?”

If only he knew what he thought were horses were actually thestrals— and they were even stranger than the vampire could imagine. “Er, yeah….” he said, sitting straight and turning to look down at the streets below them.

“I also find those apples of yours to be more marvelous than anything I’ve heard of before,” Jean-Claude continued. “Truly your magic is most amazing, mon sorcier.”

“Oh, I don’t make those,” Harry said awkwardly. “I buy them.”

“From a witch?” Jean-Claude asked, sitting up to look at him.

“Well, of course,” Harry shrugged. “It’s a family thing.”

“Ah, your relatives create the apples then?”

“No, I meant— I didn’t mean I was related to them— I meant that the apples have been in the family that grows them for centuries. So it’s been sort of a business for them for generations.”

Jean-Claude frowned. “Yet I have never heard of such things before.”

“Well, you have to know someone…,” Harry hedged, but now Jean-Claude’s interest was piqued.

“Come now, mon sorcier, blood is a magical substance and vampires can only drink from certain sources, yet these apples are safe for us. Such a gentle nourishment for a blood-drinker—you cannot blame me for being curious.”

Harry glanced at the vampire to find him making the most ridiculous pleading expression, all pouting lips and wide eyes, that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fine, fine, just stop!” he said, waving a hand at him, while Jean-Claude straightened with a sly smirk. Harry shook his head. “It’s not like it’s a secret anyway. People just don’t like knowing about it, so no one really talks about them.”

“Then how do you know of the apples, mon sorcier?” Jean-Claude frowned.

“A friend who breeds the… horses I keep told me about them,” Harry shrugged. “He finds out about a lot of things people don’t like knowing.”

“He must be quite wise,” Jean-Claude said.

Harry thought of Hagrid, with his coat and cheerful acceptance, and how people tended to try to get him to go away as quick as possible, even when it meant giving him whatever he wanted at reduced cost, and laughed. Jean-Claude stared at him curiously, but waited for him to catch his breath.

“Hah… yeah, he is,” Harry grinned. “Er, anyway, about the apples, so, the tree they come from is over a thousand years old—“

“Surely not!” Jean-Claude said. “If there were true apples of blood in the world for so long, vampires would know of it!”

“Oh?” Harry asked curiously. “How do you know there aren’t some vampires somewhere that know about it?”

Jean-Claude frowned at him. “They would either be very powerful, and would therefore make reference to it, or they would have been too weak to ever keep such a powerful secret. Either way, vampires are social enough that such knowledge would never have stayed secret for so long.”

“Huh, so vampires are braggarts then?” Harry asked.

Jean-Claude nodded solemnly. “It is a sad flaw in the most powerful of our number, but even the weakest among us can be foolish.”

“But not you?” Harry asked skeptically.

“I have no need to ‘brag,’ mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude leaned down on an elbow and raised his other arm grandly. “All who meet me, know at once what magnificence they have come upon.”

Harry tried to keep a straight face, really he did— if Jean-Claude could say such a thing without cracking a grin, Harry should be able to keep from laughing— but then the vampire winked at him and Harry lost it. He rolled facing away from Jean-Claude, holding his sides because he was laughing so hard. His laughter was loud enough to echo up into the sky above, and were the city itself not so noisy, Harry would have worried about being heard on the ground.

Behind him, Jean-Claude sat up and raised his voice. “Surely you agree with me, do you not, mon sorcier?”

Harry gasped and tried to breathe long enough to stop laughing. “Yeah—heh— yeah, sure. You’re—haha!— magnificent. Definitely.” Harry coughed a bit and finally sat up and turned to the vampire with a grin still on his face. “But, in any case, there are some vampires who know about it, they just don’t talk to people much.”

“But that cannot be, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude frowned again. “Vampires are simply too social not to know of at least rumors of secrets.”

“There are some vampires who aren’t social, you know.”

“No, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude said seriously, “there aren’t. They may wish to be, but vampires do not leave each other alone.”

“But there really are,” Harry insisted. “Look, maybe it’s not common, but there are at least a few vampires who just don’t socialize with anyone— not humans and not vampires either.”

Jean-Claude looked at him, his face unreadable. Harry shrugged uncertainly and turned back to the view below.

“In any case, the apple tree,” he continued, beside him, Jean-Claude was still for a moment longer then he also turned to look out at the city. “So, around a thousand years ago, there was this family. A witch and a warlock and their children. They were really powerful and kings and queens would come to them for help, and they would help, but they mostly kept to themselves.”

Harry glanced at the vampire, but he was listening quietly, eyes forward and completely still. Harry huffed and leaned back on his hands and continued.

“One night though, a vampire came to see them. She told them she was being hunted and asked to be hidden. They agreed and let her stay in the cellar. But in order to let her stay with them, they took down a lot of the protections they had against vampires, and she was able to sneak into their rooms while they slept.”

“Is this a cautionary tale against trusting vampires, mon sorcier?” Jean-Claude asked quietly.

Harry considered it. “Yeah, I guess, but that's not all of it you know.”

The vampire didn't reply to that and Harry figured that was a sign to keep going.

“She killed one of their children and the warlock. The witch and her remaining children were able to drive the vampire away and she escaped, but then they were left with their dead. They mourned and built tombs for them nearby, but three nights later, the warlock rose and came after them.”

Jean-Claude gave a soft sigh beside him, but made no other sound, so with a shrug, Harry went on.

“The vampire warlock was crazed, of course, and was looking for blood. He killed another of their children and the witch had to fight him and bind him with magic,” Harry said quietly, watching Jean-Claude. “She had to bury another child, but she didn't want to lose her husband again.”

“There was not much choice in the matter,” Jean-Claude said suddenly. “Without his maker to control him, he could not return to what he was.”

“Yeah, I'm sure she knew that,” Harry shrugged awkwardly. “So that's why she cast one of the most powerful spells the world has ever known.”

Jean-Claude glanced at him questioningly.

“She turned herself into a tree,” Harry told him simply. The vampire blinked.

“You are joking.”

“No, she really did. Not just any tree either, but one which bears fruit, which holds her blood.” Harry scratched his neck watching Jean-Claude. The vampire was obviously nonplussed by the revelation.

“You said yourself that blood is magical,” Harry said, “and by transforming herself in a way that her blood can be given as freely as fruit, she granted it even more power.”

“How is that, mon sorcier?” Jean-Claude sounded breathless when he spoke, as if he was trying to hold something in that was straining against his skin.

“Sacrifice is a powerful magic on its own, but when it's willing it's astronomically more powerful than when it's forced.” Harry shrugged and leaned back again, slipping into his old instruction voice from the D.A. days. “Fruit is naturally endowed with a willingness to be given without harm. By combining the magical properties of blood, fruit, and sacrifice, she created a spell that, in essence, made her immortal, and also allowed the power generated within her to be given and shared with others.” Harry turned to look at the vampire. “You said the blood apples were 'safe' for you to eat, but was that all you felt from them?”

Jean-Claude considered him silently before answering. “The blood from those... apples was,” he sighed and looked away, “the most welcoming, sweet blood I have ever tasted. I cannot imagine any blood in the world tasting so good again.” Jean-Claude turned back to him with a gentle smile. “I fear you have spoiled me for all time, mon sorcier.”

Harry rolled his eyes but nodded and lay back on the cool metal Arch. “Right, that's because of how much magic is in that blood—not just to make it, but the fact that it was made for the sole purpose of sustaining life by being given away. Even if someone willingly lets you drink from them, the blood in their body was created for them and no one else, so while the person may be willing, their blood isn't.”

“This... is truly fascinating, mon sorcier.” Jean-Claude leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “But it still does not explain how no vampires know of it. If anything, it would be a treasure they would fight to possess.”

“Yeah, well, the story's not finished,” Harry said. He propped his hands behind his head while he looked up at the stars. Jean-Claude looked over his shoulder at him. Harry sighed. “The warlock vampire did end up eating some of the apples from his wife's tree, while the last two children watched. Supposedly the magic in her blood was at its most powerful then, because after drinking from only a few fruit, he regained his mind.”

Jean-Claude let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a gasp and turned fully to Harry. “That cannot—truly, how can such a thing be?” he whispered.

“I don't know. Magic.” Harry shrugged awkwardly before resettling his shoulders on the ground. “Anyway, after that, he and his last two children mourned, they built another grave for the dead child. They fixed the warlock's grave, because he said he was dead as they knew him, and they... began to care for the tree. They lived that way for years, eventually the kids grew up and had children of their own, and they all stayed to care for the tree. The warlock remained with his family, watching over them and feeding from the apples for centuries.”

“He never...,” Jean-Claude interrupted, then trailed off.

Harry glanced at him. “Never what?”

Jean-Claude looked at him, his face too dark to see with the light from the city behind him. “He never needed a master to wake him?”

Harry frowned. “A what?”

Jean-Claude stared at him silently until Harry sat up. “Never mind, mon sorcier.”

“Do you mean, wake when the sun sets?” Harry asked.

“Oui,” Jean-Claude sighed tiredly, turning away from him. “New vampires must depend on a master to keep them alive, until they have enough strength to beat their own hearts.”

“Well, no, after what happened, the family was pretty strict about keeping vampires other than the warlock away from their lands,” Harry said.

Jean-Claude laughed. “I am sure, mon sorcier. Still, it is a pretty tale, even without all the facts.”

“But, he never needed anyone to wake him,” Harry said with a frown. “The apples--”

“Mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude interrupted, “how can apples, even ones so magical and wondrous, have helped him rise each night without a master?”

“They didn't,” Harry said shortly. “After eating them he just... never needed to sleep during daylight.”

Jean-Claude stared at him before scoffing. “Now I know you are toying with me, mon sorcier. Imagine that-- a vampire who does not die with the day from his first night rising!”

“Look, it's not him who did anything special!” Harry glared. “It was his wife who did the magic! The magic is far faded from what it was when it began, but even you can still feel it, right?”

Jean-Claude glanced back at him consideringly.

“Those apples were more powerful than anything that had ever been made before, or made since! And they were made specifically for him,” Harry said bitingly. “I don't care if this sounds unbelievable to you, but magically speaking it's not something that can be doubted!”

“Oh, so there is magic to compare to this curious event, monsieur?”

“Not exactly,” Harry hedged. Next to him Jean-Claude shrugged as if to say 'naturally' and Harry bristled. “But you shouldn't underestimate the power of love.”

“Love, mon sorcier?” Jean-Claude laughed lightly. “Oh, I had no idea you were such a bohemian at heart!”

“I am not!” Harry glared and shifted so the vampire was forced to look him in the eye. “I am perfectly serious! Love is the greatest power in the world—it lasts beyond death, it breaks all barriers, it can strengthen any magic!” Jean-Claude seemed frozen as Harry spoke on, surprised by his vehemence. “And no magic in the world can stand against love! You're a fool if you think it's just a fairytale because people toss the word 'love' about like it's nothing!”

By the end Harry was breathing heavily and had risen at some point to his knees so he was actually leaning over Jean-Claude. The vampire was staring at him, wide eyed and still, and Harry realized suddenly how foolish he was being. His face flushed instantly and he slowly sat down.

“Er, sorry,” he said after a few moments of pointedly looking anywhere but at the vampire beside him.

“Non, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude said. “It is foolish to underestimate love.” He smiled wanly at Harry before turning away. “I know, because I have seen it.”

Harry turned toward him reluctantly, but now it was the vampire who was avoiding looking at him.

“But I have also seen love die, so,” he sighed softly, “I suppose it seems a weak thing to me now.”

“Love doesn't die,” Harry said quietly, not sure if he should, but unable to let it go. “Not in death, and not in hate.”

“And you would know much of hate and death, mon sorcier?”

“I know that love is stronger.” Perhaps it was the certainty in Harry's voice that made Jean-Claude finally look up, and when he did, Harry was surprised to see the vampire's eyes so empty they looked dead. Harry gathered himself and stared back resolutely. “It is. I promise you, love never dies, it never goes away. Even when you can't see it anymore, it is still there.”

They stayed like that, silent and staring at each other, Harry willing the vampire to believe him, and Jean-Claude empty as a doll. Finally, between one blink and the next, Jean-Claude returned to normal and gave Harry a small smile.

“Thank you for that, mon sorcier,” he said. “It is... comforting, to be reminded of such things by a truly guileless person as yourself.”

“Er, okay...,” Harry blinked and sat back, staring at Jean-Claude.

“I do enjoy our meetings, mon sorcier,” the vampire continued, standing and brushing off his clothes as he did, “but I fear this one has already run late enough.”

Harry glanced around and stood as well. It didn't seem that much later than usual, but he had a terrible sense of time in the dark like this, and anyway, Jean-Claude was the one who had business to attend to.

“Oh, sure,” he said. “See you Wednesday then?”

Jean-Claude smiled more widely at him. “Of course, mon sorcier. I will be certain not to be late.”

They said their goodbyes, more quickly than usual, and then Jean-Claude leapt off the edge of the Arch and vanished. Harry stood staring after him, wondering what in the hell happened until Therdad landed next to him and gave him a nudge.

“Well that was different,” he muttered as he patted the thestral on his invisible head. “Hmm, you ready to go home then?” he asked.

Therdad bumped him, almost knocking him over, and Harry laughed and climbed up on the creature's back. A quick spell to make himself invisible, and they were off, odd vampire behavior quite forgotten.

* * *

The next day passed as usual for Harry—he woke up, fed the animals, released them into the yard, tended his vegetables, practiced some spellwork—and he was very much looking forward to a quiet evening in reading the latest issue of Mandrake Annual, a scholarly journal on magical theory he subscribed to. So he was entirely unprepared later that night, for his wards to tremble in warning and the thestrals to begin making a ruckus outside.

“What in the world are you lot doing?” Harry asked as he stepped out onto the front porch.

Azeilah and Bob were standing still on either side of the front steps, staring down the road, where Therdad and Rigel were prancing about and whinnying sharply at something coming towards them. Harry reached out through the wards and felt them, vampires.

“Hey, you two!” Harry called out. Therdad and Rigel gave twin shrieks at the vampires, but turned and raced up to the house to stand beside Azeilah and Bob. Harry stepped down to stand between the four thestrals and meet his guests.

“Well, well, such obedient beasts the witch-boy has!” A pale white vampire child with long Malfoy-blonde hair laughed as she came to stand across from Harry. The other vampires arranged themselves around her, and in the back of the group, Harry could see Jean-Claude. He tried to catch the vampire's eye, but Jean-Claude avoided it and stared blankly at the ground.

“Er, nice night for a walk,” Harry said, turning to the girl vampire. “But I'm sure there are better places for you to be than my farm.”

The vampire girl laughed, bubbly and high, like a child, and the other vampires joined in. Harry stared at them.

“Right, maybe you should go now,” he said. The thestrals beside him shrieked and stamped the ground, and the vampires fell silent.

“First, I think we should settle our business, don't you?” the vampire girl said shrilly. “I would so hate to leave any bad blood between us.”

“We don't have any business, and if you don't leave peacefully there's going to be a lot worse than 'bad blood' between us,” Harry said. He twitched his arm so his wand fell to his hand.

“Oh but there is, little witch-boy,” the vampire girl sing-songed, shaking a finger at him in time with the words.

Harry frowned at her. It was an odd thing to be patronized by a little girl, even a who-knows-how-old vampire little girl.

The vampire girl stared at him blankly for a moment, then snarled and glared. “Well, well, I suppose Jean-Claude wasn't lying about you, witch-boy. You are more powerful than you look.”

Harry blinked and glanced over at Jean-Claude through the crowd, but the vampire was still avoiding his gaze. He shrugged and turned back to the vampire girl, and found her eyes glowing white-blue and her cheeks sunken in. The thestrals were making that terrible harsh sound horses do when they scream low in their throats, and the other vampires had backed away from their child master.

“But no matter. Whatever power you have won't save you from my vengeance!” the vampire girl shrieked. Her hands were curled like claws and cold winds blew around her like a cyclone.

Harry decided he'd let this go on long enough and raised his wand high, circling it around himself and his thestrals.

“ _Delitus Solarius!_ ” he shouted over the wind, and sunlight, warm and golden, splashed down around him and the thestrals in a wide circle.

Just outside of the circle of light, the vampires screamed and most of them fell back into the shadows. The child vampire stood staring at him a few feet from the edge of the light, the wind around her dying down to nothing. Only two men, who Harry realized were actually humans, Jean-Claude, and two cowering figures didn't flee into the dark. Jean-Claude was staring at him in shock.

The thestrals neighed and tossed their heads in obvious mockery, and Harry patted one and waited for the vampires to collect themselves. Slowly, the six who'd fled crept back toward their child master, though they stayed well behind her, watching Harry with dread.

“You—you will pay for this!” the girl vampire had found her voice again, and she screamed at Harry, her eyes glowing fiercely once more.

“I'd like to see you try!” Harry said. “I'd also like to know what exactly you've all gone batty about in the first place. I have done absolutely nothing to you.” Harry glanced at Jean-Claude uncertainly at this, wondering if the vampire had betrayed him over something they'd spoken of.

“Oh! He speaks as if he doesn't know!” the girl vampire laughed, not so bubbly anymore, but definitely more frightening. Harry shivered in the warm enchanted sunlight he'd called. “But what else but this 'oh-so-powerful' witch-boy could be the culprit!”

One of the human men standing behind her drew a sword and came towards the circle of light. The thestrals gnashed their teeth and stomped at him, but he slashed toward them and pressed forward. Harry let him, then, when the man was in the circle with them, he dropped the illusion on the thestrals.

Thestrals do not look like horses. They look like something that might once have been horses, and they have many of the same features, but they look like dragons, like demons, like death. They don't look like horses. So when four perfectly normal, if angry, horses turned into four foul looking, black, skeletal creatures with wide leathery wings flapping about it was understandably startling.

The thestrals quite eagerly took advantage of this to rip the sword out of the man's hand and knock him head over heels backwards toward the girl vampire.

“Burchard!” the girl vampire knelt by the man's side when he stopped rolling, and glared up at Harry. The thestrals flapped their wings wildly and reared up to lash their front legs out. “You will pay for this human!” she shouted.

“Pay for what?” Harry shouted back. “Defending my home from invaders? Oh, yes! How absolutely terrible of me! I suppose you'd rather I just set you on fire instead of giving you a chance to flee, then?”

“You dare--!” the girl vampire stood, the wind whirling about her faster than ever, but for once Harry couldn't feel it. The sunlight around him was warm and, apparently, enough to fight off the cold death magic these vampires loved to toss about. “After killing my children, insulting my power, you dare mock me!” She was throwing an awful lot of magic around now, the other vampires cowered behind her and even the thestrals backed into the warm light around Harry and shook themselves off as if they'd been in the rain. “Zachary!” she shrieked into the wind.

The second human man behind her stood up, shakily, and raised an arm. The two figures that Harry couldn't figure out before—they weren't vampires, and they weren't human—moved forward. Then he knew what they were—inferi, zombie, walking corpses. This man must be the 'animator' Jean-Claude had told him about. Personally, this was the kind of magic Harry feared and hated the most. Nothing was worse than magic that disturbed the dead, nothing was more dark, more horrible.

But luckily, he wouldn't have to deal with it. The thestrals turned to look at the two animated dead coming toward them and bayed.

“You're kidding, right?” Harry shouted at the child vampire. “I'm sure you've never seen a thestral before, but you did hear that they eat dead meat, didn't you?”

The thestrals flapped eagerly and waited for the corpses to reach the edge of the light before they struck. The dead flailed their limbs, trying to bat the thestrals away, but the four beasts worked together, tag-teaming the corpses until they were knocked over, then trampled on them and tore them apart, bite by bite.

“Dead flesh is all they eat, you know,” Harry said cheerfully. The wind had died down again while the vampires watched the thestrals rip into the wiggling bodies with glee. “They don't touch anything alive. Although, I have wondered if they would consider vampires to be alive or dead, but,” some of the vampires, including Jean-Claude, turned their gazes on him. Harry shrugged placidly, “I've never really tested it. As long as I feed them, they're pretty content.”

The child vampire screamed, so high Harry and the thestrals winced. “You will pay for this, witch-boy! The loss of my children shall be carved out of your skin!” Then she started to levitate.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Harry said incredulously, staring at her. He waved his wand toward her and cast a wordless _protego horribilis_ —just in case. “I haven't touched anyone! Well, okay, so the thestrals are kinda eating the zombies, but I didn't think you were too attached to them!”

“Several vampires have been killed recently,” Jean-Claude said suddenly. Harry glanced over at him. The vampire was finally looking at him, but his face was the most blank Harry had ever seen it. “Some of them were quite powerful.”

Harry blinked and turned to the floating girl vampire. “So... you think I killed them?”

“Who else but you could do such a thing?” she snarled.

“Yeah, whatever, I didn't kill them, I didn't even know they were dead.” Harry waved an arm at her. “I don't even know who is dead!”

She sneered at him, from a meter over his head this worked much better at patronizing than previously. “Then who, little witch-boy, could kill my children? Who could kill some of my most powerful lieutenants?”

“I have no idea, and I don't particularly care right now,” Harry said. “You invaded my home, you accused me with no proof whatsoever, and you were planning to, what? Attack me?” Harry scoffed. “You do realize that my wards are set to light vampires on fire if they try to hurt me? You could have died tonight for absolutely nothing!”

Several vampires shuffled backward at that. Jean-Claude just stared at him. The child vampire sneered again, but she seemed much calmer now, for all that she was still hanging in the air like it was nothing.

“Why, oh, why should I believe you, witch-boy?” she asked in a lilting voice.

“Why the hell would lie?” Harry asked. “If I did kill anyone, and you came here to fight me, I would just kill you, wouldn't I?”

“You could try!” The girl vampire said this almost pleasantly, but Harry noticed everyone around her flinch and wondered if there was magic in her voice like there was in the wind.

“ _Flagrate_ ,” Harry said stiffly, waving his wand around her and the others still on the ground. Long weaving lines of fire appeared where he pointed, circling around the vampires and the men. Harry didn't know if the others could fly or float or anything, so the fire wound in circles over their heads as well. Some of them screamed, some of them flinched away from the shifting, swirling fire. Jean-Claude stood very, very still in his circle of flame. The girl vampire shrieked and glared at him in fury. Harry was very thankful vampire eyes didn't hold any power over him, because the look she gave him was truly the worst of the whole night.

“Look, I don't want to fight you,” he said. “I just want to be left alone. I didn't kill any of your people, but I won't tolerate you harassing me about something I have nothing to do with.”

Harry stared at the girl vampire, waiting for some indication she was willing to listen to him, but all he saw was fury. He sighed.

“Fine, whatever, I hope you find whoever killed your people, just leave me alone.” Harry waved his wand at them, and the rings of fire merged until they formed several massive rings around the whole group, and then they slowly floated away from him, driving the lot off his property.

“I will not forget this, witch-boy!” the girl vampire screamed after him as she was pushed with her people to the edge of his farm. “I will not forget this! I will stalk your nightmares for this! I will seek you out in the darkness and drag you to its depths! _You will pay!_ ”

The thestrals abandoned their surprise meal to follow after the vampires, baying and prancing in joy at their departure, so Harry took the opportunity to banish the still twitching and wiggling body parts. He wanted none of that on his land. The vampire child was still screeching abuse and threats, but it was distant and muffled now. As soon as the last of her group had passed over the property border, Harry dropped the fire spell, erected the full ward barrier and locked it.

The night went quiet, except for the thestrals who came galloping happily back, only to whinny in dismay to find their zombie snack missing. Therdad butted his head into Harry. Harry looked at him flatly, then at the others. They stared back at him, Bob had his head tilted in curiosity at the sudden serious mood.

“Hermione's going to kill me,” Harry said. “No, she's going to shrink me, and stick me in a bottle, and lock me in a drawer for the rest of my life.”

The thestrals didn't seem particularly impressed by this. Therdad knocked into him more forcefully and Rigel snorted and tossed his head. Azeilah and Bob both turned toward the barn, clearly done for the night.

“I'm serious you know,” Harry insisted. “If she ever finds out about this, my life as a free person is over.”

Therdad and Rigel exchanged a look, then turned to follow the others. Harry watched them go, then looked down the road where the vampires had been sent and sighed.

“It's not like I ask for this to happen or anything,” he muttered quietly to himself. Then he sighed again and went inside.

 

 


	9. Vampire Politics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampires always want something.

Chapter 9-- Vampire Politics

  
Harry spent most of the next day moping around the house. He let his charms do the chores again and wandered from room to room only to collapse on a sofa or chair and lie there for an hour or so, wondering what the hell he did to deserve this. He really hadn't done anything this time! Well, maybe he talked to Jean-Claude, and maybe having a vampire for a friend wasn't the best idea ever, but how the hell that led to him being accused of murder and invaded, Harry had no idea.

The thestrals, at least, were perfectly happy. They spent the day frolicking outside as usual, chasing each other around the yard, and occasionally flying off the property to do who knows what in the nature reserve. Harry hadn't replaced the illusion on them, and he really needed to before someone spotted them. But that would require getting up and going outside, and it was much easier to just lay on his comfy sofa, bemoaning his life. He'd earned the right to be a little dramatic. At least while no one saw him.

As Harry was doing just that, face pressed into a pillow and contemplating a nap, the phone rang. He groaned and tumbled off the cushions to go answer it. It was probably Hermione and he wasn't at all ready to tell her what happened.

Oh Merlin, he really wasn't ready to tell her!

Harry froze by the side table and stared down at the telephone as if it had suddenly sprouted fangs and hissed at him.

That's right, there was no way he could let Hermione know what had happened, and no way he could keep it secret from her—she was just too good at catching him in a lie!

Harry shuffled awkwardly before the phone, until it stopped ringing. He gave a sigh of relief, maybe Hermione would think he was out, he wouldn't go out if something was wrong, so he could put off talking to her till tomorrow, right? But no more than a moment later, it started ringing again.

Harry jumped, then laughed nervously and scratched his neck. There's no way she could already know, right? Harry gulped and slowly picked up the phone.

“H-hello?” he said nervously.

“Ah, mon sorcier! I am relieved I reached you,” Jean-Claude said across the line, his voice sending a warm tingling wash down Harry's spine.

“Oh, thank Merlin, it's just you!” Harry blurted out. His whole body relaxed and slumped over the telephone in relief. Then he froze as he caught a glimpse out the kitchen windows—it was still daylight out, shouldn't the vampire be in a coffin somewhere?

“Pardon?”

“Oh, nothing,” Harry flushed, thankful the vampire couldn't see him acting like such an idiot. “I just thought you might be someone else, that's all, I mean it is pretty early for you to be...awake. Er, what did you want?”

“First, mon sorcier, I would ask if you are well. I understand last night must have been a distressing event, and I apologize for any inconvenience.”

Harry was silent, mouth hanging open and staring at air for a full minute. Questions about vampires being up before sunset ignored and then forgotten.

“Are you bloody joking?” he finally got out.

“Ah, it was entirely uncalled for our faction to encroach on your territory without permission, mon sorcier, and should you wish, my Master's previous offer still stands, if that is enough to make amends,” Jean-Claude said quickly.

“What?” Harry recoiled. “I'm not working for her--!”

“No, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude interrupted soothingly. “I meant my Master's offer of a gift to ease any insult which may have inadvertently been given to you last night.”

“Wait, what?” Harry frowned. “You mean, you again? I mean, she's offering you, again?”

“If I am no longer suitable for your tastes, mon sorcier--” Jean-Claude actually sounded hurt over the line and Harry could just imagine his face pouting as he spoke.

“Wait—no! That's not what I meant!” Harry rubbed his forehead and leaned against the wall. “Just, what the hell is going on?”

“My Master is seeking your forgiveness for last night's...faux pas,” Jean-Claude said slowly. “She also would seek your assistance—for this one time only—in finding the true killer of her people.”

Harry slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground. He was silent for so long, Jean-Claude called his name to check if he was there.

“Hey, Jean-Claude,” Harry said tiredly, “are vampires...crazy, or something?”

The line was silent, then the vampire sighed. “I am afraid, mon sorcier, that you are simply not what anyone expects. Someone like you just...does not exist.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and glared at the floor. “Does not, or should not?” he asked angrily. “It's not my fault if people can't bully me the way they want to! I shouldn't have to apologize for defending myself!”

“I did not mean it like that, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude said quietly. “You must understand, vampires live so long, they grow accustomed to being able to 'bully' whosoever they wish without consequence, at least, whoever they consider weak. You appear to be weak, mon sorcier, so I'm afraid it is quite a shock to find you are not.”

“Oh, golly, I'm so sorry!” Harry glared at the floor. “Maybe I should start posting signs or something! 'W-witch Here—Not a Pushover!' Do you think that will help?”

Jean-Claude sighed again. “Somehow, mon sorcier, I think it would not.”

Harry scoffed and leaned his head back against the wall, bringing his legs up to rest his elbows on his knees. “So, what's going on then? Your 'master' doesn't really think this can just be ignored if she sends you to bother me, does she?”

“Well, she is offering to let you keep me,” Jean-Claude said carefully. “There are many in the past who were willing to overlook far worse disputes for such an opportunity.”

“Wha-what would I even do with you?” Harry sputtered. He couldn't believe they were even talking about this.

“Why, anything you wished, mon sorcier.” Jean-Claude was silent for a moment, perhaps listening to Harry stammer awkwardly for lack of anything proper to say, then he cheerfully continued. “You would certainly be a more amusing and by far the kindest master I have ever had, mon coeur en sucre.”

Harry blushed and clamped his mouth shut while Jean-Claude laughed. There was just something wrong with vampires, there just had to be.

“Oh, for—will you just get to the point?” Harry ground out.

“Ah, my apologies, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude's voice still sounded like it had an edge of laughter in it. “I find I cannot resist teasing you.”

“I bet you could if you tried,” Harry muttered.

A low hum was his only answer, sending another shiver down Harry's spine. He was fairly sure now that vampires had some serious magic weaving through their voices.

“To be blunt, mon sorcier, my Master is most distressed by this killer. Already several of her most powerful followers have died, and no one knows who is doing it. It was suspected that a new rival had come to claim the city from her, as others have done of late, but she could not sense them.”

“How did I get dragged into this?” Harry asked.

“Ah, my Master suspected the reason you refused her offer of alliance—“

“Servitude,” Harry interrupted.

“Both much the same under her rule,” Jean-Claude said. “But, to continue, she believed it must be because you were already aligned with someone else.”

“Right, cause no one’s ever refused such a tempting offer before,” Harry drawled.

Jean-Claude went quiet at that and Harry had a sudden notion that he’d stuck his foot in yet again.

“I didn’t mean you,” he said quickly, “I meant her. She’s just… not terribly polite.”

“Of course, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude said and his voice sounded the same as always, but somehow it came off as much stiffer to Harry than before.

“Look, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean,” Harry stopped and rubbed his forehead tiredly. “It’s just, this is very strange.”

“Oh, for us as well, I assure you, mon sorcier.”

“People shouldn’t be used like this,” Harry muttered under his breath. He really didn’t want to offend Jean-Claude, and he got the feeling the vampire really didn’t like talking about…whatever his situation was, but it kept coming up, and Harry just couldn’t figure out how to react properly.

“You…truly should not exist,” Jean-Claude said suddenly.

“What?” Harry was startled badly enough he hit his head on the wall and spent a minute rubbing the ache out while Jean-Claude hastened to explain.

“I do not mean this cruelly, mon sorcier, it is simply….” The vampire sighed loudly as if trying to collect his thoughts. “You are human, you act like a weak human, you do not do anything that powerful rivals would do, that masters would do, and yet, mon sorcier, you have forced the Master of the City to treat you as she would a rival master, and one whom she has offended without just cause. This is an unusual circumstance.”

“Well, it’s certainly never happened to me before,” Harry said glumly.

“You jest, mon sorcier, but this is very serious,” Jean-Claude said sternly. “You now rank as a powerful master vampire, but you are not a vampire. My Master will certainly use any misunderstandings against you in the future.”

“What, misunderstandings like accusing me of murder?”

“I hope I have made clear my Master’s regret over this error in judgment, mon sorcier.”

Harry hesitated, he remembered a thought that had occurred to him last night and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out if it was true.

“Hey, er, did you tell her I might have killed those vampires?” he asked.

“No, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude said at once. “I do not believe you would do such a thing.” He was quiet for a moment. “My Master does not feel the same, but you were remarkably kind last night.”

Harry blinked. “Huh?”

“You could have killed us, all of us, far more easily than anyone expected,” Jean-Claude paused, as if remembering the night before, the fire and the sunlight and the thestrals all at once. “But you chose not to. You displayed your powers and sent us away without having to truly fight at all. I… we do not often see one with such strength be so kind to those below them.”

Harry felt like his heart stopped mid-beat. Shit, bloody flipping hippogriffs. So much for hoping the muggle vampires wouldn't find his magic too off. If Hermione ever found out about this, he could forget the bottle in a drawer, cause she’d tattle to Kingsley, and then Harry would be under house arrest, working community service training Auror cadets for the rest of his life.

“Er, you don’t meet a lot of nice people, do you?” Harry said awkwardly. Screw it, he’d come this far and damned if he could figure out how to get out of the mess now.

Jean-Claude laughed. “No, mon sorcier, no I do not.”

“Um, yeah, so, don't take this the wrong way Jean-Claude, but I don't really want you,” Harry continued.

“Oh, not at all, mon sorcier,” Harry could practically hear the vampire grinning over the line. “so long, of course, as you will not be seeking any other reparations against my Master for this slight.”

“Do you mean, am I going to go hatter and invade her home anytime soon?” Harry asked flatly.

“More or less, mon sorcier.”

“Then, no, don't think so. At least as long as she doesn't come after me again.”

“Marvelous,” Jean-Claude said pleasantly. “In that case, on to the matter of finding the true killer--”

“Why do I have to do anything about that?” Harry interrupted. “I mean, I'm sorry someone's after your people, but I have nothing to do with this, so why am I being asked to get involved? Hermit, remember?”

“I am afraid, mon sorcier, that this is how my Master intends to either keep peace, or start a war with you,” Jean-Claude said slowly.

Harry was silent.

“My Master does not take well to insult, and, though you did not intend such, she was greatly diminished in the eyes of her followers before you, so....”

“So, either I do something for her now, or she claims I did something to insult her later, and comes after me again.” Harry glared at the floor, waiting for Jean-Claude to tell him he was wrong.

“Perhaps not immediately,” Jean-Claude agreed. “But, certainly she would never forget your refusal, and she would always be looking for weakness.”

“I thought she already wasn't going to forget last night,” Harry snarled. Damn vampires!

“Well,” Jean-Claude paused delicately. “That is politics, mon sorcier.”

“That's not politics, that's just insane!”

“Unfortunately, in the case of greater powers, it is politics.”

“No it isn't! Politics is countries and nations and stuff!” Harry huffed angrily. “Not people being bullies!”

Jean-Claude laughed. “What are nations but the greatest powers in the land, bullying each other for what they want?”

“No one here is a nation!” Harry said stiffly.

“No, but the Master of the City is the sovereign power of all the vampires in the area, and you, mon sorcier, have been declared a power unto yourself!” Jean-Claude sighed again. “My Master will play the pretty game of politics with you, until you make a mistake that she feels secure taking advantage of and then, I fear, it will be war.”

Harry gaped uselessly at the handle. “Th-that! How the hell is there going to be a war without any of the mug—mundanes noticing? And against just one person?” He sputtered and waved an arm, not caring that Jean-Claude couldn't see him. “And how the hell is she going to attack me in the first place! My wards are up and they sure as prophets aren't coming down now!”

“As an established power, my Master has numerous allies, many of whom will be more than willing to attack you for her if it will gain them favor,” Jean-Claude explained. “No one now will come to your aid if you seek them out, and I do not believe you can remain hiding, locked away on your farm for long. You could barely stay there a week before you got bored, mon sorcier.”

Harry stared blankly at the ceiling, his head leaning back on the wall. “So, I guess this means we aren't meeting up to chat anymore.”

Jean-Claude was quiet. “I fear it would not be wise.”

“Oh.”

“It is nothing against you, mon ami, it is simply that my Master is... displeased with me, and knows that we have been meeting recently.”Jean-Claude breathed softly across the line. Harry wondered if his face was flat and empty now, or if he actually had an expression of remorse like his voice implied. “Any tie with you now is...not an advantage, and I have been too careless with my position of late to risk anymore.”

Harry said nothing, just closed his eyes, wondering why this bothered him in the first place. It was just a vampire after all, and one who was now an enemy as well. So, who cared.

“I am truly sorry, mon sorcier.”

Harry sighed and drew his legs up to his chest. “Yeah, me too,” he said. “But, unfortunately, I'm still not doing anything for your master.”

“Mon sorcier--!” Jean-Claude sounded worried, which was an odd and needless thing now.

“I mean, I'll look around,” Harry interrupted quickly, “and if I find the killer, then I'll tell you. But if I don't, then I don't care. It's not my problem.” Harry drew in a breath and stretched his legs out tiredly. “But I guess as a good neighbor, I can at least keep my eyes open, or something.”

“I—yes, of course, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude said. “I...wish you luck, and I will send someone with information on the killings to you tonight.”

“Sure,” Harry agreed absently.

Both of them were quiet now, nothing more to say, but Harry couldn't bring himself to just disconnect. He wondered why Jean-Claude didn't.

“Well,” Jean-Claude finally said after several minutes of sitting on the line in silence. “I wish you a good evening, mon sorcier.”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry said awkwardly. “You too....”

Harry wasn't sure what else there could be after that, but it seemed Jean-Claude didn't have anything to add either and, finally, hung up. Harry sat listening to the dial tone for a few seconds before reaching up to place the handle in the cradle on the table next to him. Then he sat back against the wall with a sigh and gazed tiredly at the ceiling.

What was he going to do? The vampires were going to be a permanent problem, which was something he should definitely call in the U.S. Obliviators for. But for some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to believe it was because he was too stubborn to admit he needed help (and too paranoid that that the U.S. Ministry would rat on him to Kingsley, and then everyone back home would know) but honestly, he knew it was really because he was protecting Jean-Claude.

He was protecting a vampire.

Merlin's balls, if anyone ever found out about this... Skeeter would write the most outlandish article about the degrading effect thestrals had on the psyche, and probably predict the coming of Dark Lord Potter, or something equally ridiculous. People would panic, his friends would try to rescue him, and he'd lose his home.

Harry groaned and forced himself to get up. Okay, now he was being too dramatic.

Nothing like that was going to happen—because he wouldn't let it! He would be careful, and he'd figure out what to do about the vampires on his own. Maybe it wouldn't turn out as dire as Jean-Claude said. Maybe it would just be like having a snooty neighbor—you see them around occasionally, spread some bad gossip, and go about your lives avoiding each other.

Sure. Harry could just see random vampires coming over to borrow a cup of blood and killing goats while his back was turned. Perfectly normal.

Seriously though, why did things like this always happen to him?

\- - -

As Jean-Claude promised, a woman with a folder full of paper and pictures drove up to his house just after sunset. She honked frantically from inside a clean, blue four-door and huddled in her seat while the thestrals circled around the vehicle, until Harry came out to greet her. He had made sure to replace the horse illusion on them all, but he supposed they were still very large, excited creatures wandering freely about, so he didn't blame her for being afraid.

He was also a little grateful she was so nervous, because it meant, as soon as she passed off the folder, she drove off and disappeared. The thestrals chased after the retreating car until it left his property and Harry went back inside to go through the various papers.

By moonrise though, Harry had to concede defeat. How the vampires though he could figure anything out with the scant information he was working from, he didn't know. Well... unless it was intentional, of course.

The papers he'd been given had turned out to be a few sheets of smooth, thick paper describing the various vampire deaths—where and when they were found, who knew them—and a couple newspaper clippings on the dead vampires the police had found before Nikolaos' people could clear them away. Based on the curling ink calligraphy filling the pages, Harry suspected that it had been written out in a hurry. He tried not to think too much on why the writer was rushing.

But no matter that Harry now knew how many vampires were dead (10), how they'd died (heads cut off and hearts taken out), and who their “friends” were (human snacks and vampire rivals), he still couldn't figure out why or who killed them. He'd found plenty in his books on the magical properties of various vampire bits—mainly the heart—but anyone could figure out a vampire's heart was important! Everyone also knew vampires died if their head or heart were removed, and there was nothing in the folder that indicated anything magical had been done to the victims. Just, head cut off, heart cut out.

Pretty standard kills for a vampire hunter, was Harry's conclusion.

Unfortunately, there was no way the vampires didn't already know that, and yet they'd still come after him, a “witch,” instead of a hunter, so there had to be something else. Something he hadn't been told. So, with a grimace, he decided to go into town and investigate.

His first stop was Guilty Pleasures, not by choice, but because it was the only reliable link to a vampire he had. Assuming Jean-Claude would still see him, of course. It wasn't like they were meeting at the Arch—this was just business, so it should be fine. Right.

Even so, Harry still groaned a little inside at going there again, even the thought that maybe he wouldn't be allowed to actually go in wasn't making him feel much better. The District wasn't as crowded on a Thursday night as it was on the weekends, so Harry had little trouble walking from the secluded alley he apparated to, to the club. But by the time he slowly walked up to the vampire at the door—ignoring the small group of women waiting for approval from the bouncer to go in—he was grimacing like it was an execution he was going to, not a strip club.

The vampire, same muscle-bulging one as last time, looked up from checking an ID to stare at him oddly when he finally made it up the steps.

“You going in?” he asked, when Harry just stood there with a strained smile.

“Er, is Jean-Claude in?” Harry asked hesitantly. “It's alright if he's not! I can go somewhere else... er, don't suppose you know another vampire place that the 'master of the city' wouldn't go to?”

“Uhh... wha..no..yeah? Yeah, he's in,” he replied, looking more confused by the moment. “Don't think he's expecting you though,” was muttered more quietly as the large vampire tried to collect himself.

“Well, I wasn't expecting to be here either.” Harry sent a flat look to the blazing pink neon sign above them.

“Right, well,” the vampire shrugged with a frown and gestured weakly at the door, “you can just go on in, you know where his office is.”

“Yeah, great.” Harry sighed, then trudged up the last few steps and past the door. He wondered, if he suggested an ID check, whether Jean-Claude would come out here instead. Probably not.

“Oh, come on!” one of the women whined, just before the door swung closed behind him. He didn't think it was fair either.

Harry sighed to himself and moved toward the curtain blocking off the stage room.

A smiling woman stepped in his way. “Hi! Do you have any holy items to declare?” she asked cheerfully. Harry jerked back.

“Er, no.” Harry looked at her oddly. She grinned at him.

“Thank you! Have a great night!” she said and she waved him through

“Yeah, you too,” he muttered as he walked past her. Then he pushed the heavy curtain aside and entered the club.

The thumping music and cheering crowd pressed against him, heavy and pulsing like a dragon's heartbeat. The lighting was focused mostly on the stage, where a half naked man was thrusting against a pole and bending over backwards at the same time. Some women at the nearest tables were waving handfuls of cash to try and get his attention.

Yep. Same as last time.

Harry turned his eyes to the floor and headed for the hallway he knew was somewhere on the other side of the room. Shrieking women and the occasional topless server made an otherwise short walk much longer and more winding than Harry would have liked, but eventually he did make it to the opposite wall. Several of the servers had really only got in the way because they recognized him and paused to stare while he passed. Harry was pretty sure at least one of them had already hurried off ahead of him to warn Jean-Claude of his visit.

Robert the blond vampire appeared out of the crowd, smiling and removing several women's hands from his arms, to stand next to Harry by the wall. “Mr. Harry... may I ask what has brought you to our club this evening?” Okay, obviously they'd warned someone that Harry was here.

“Er,” Harry glanced around. The room was dark close to the walls, away from the stage, and there weren't any tables in this corner, so near the employee hall, but Harry still caught several people watching them—Robert—eagerly. He'd also seen the way some of the women hadn't wanted to let go of the vampire as he passed them. “I had some questions about...er, you know...” Harry trailed off and waved a hand vaguely. This was supposed to be a secret, right? Even though vampires were legal, their actions sure weren't, so... their business was still secret from muggles, wasn't it?

Harry realized suddenly that maybe the magical world had got him a little too used to keeping secrets, if he was going to help vampires keep theirs.

“Ah, of course,” Robert said calmly. His eyes flicked back at the tables behind him, where some women and a few men were ignoring the floor show to watch him instead. He seemed determined to keep them from hearing anything as well. “Please, come this way.”

Harry followed him to the hallway and stopped outside the door to Jean-Claude's office when Robert asked him to wait while the vampire went in. He was left outside for only a minute before Robert opened the door and waved him in. Harry walked in and Robert closed the door behind him, then stood before it silently.

“I must admit, mon sorcier, I had thought you would know better than to visit me so soon.” Jean-Claude was smiling, but it came off as more intimidating to Harry than welcoming.

“I didn't really want to come here, and this isn't a visit,” Harry said firmly. He stood before the desk and crossed his arms with a frown.

“Ah, I see, I must have misunderstood your presence in my office as an indication you came to see me!”

Harry frowned harder. “This isn't a social visit!” he insisted.

“Yes, you came to discuss the murder investigation you wanted nothing to do with.” Jean-Claude's smile thinned. His voice was cold and sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

“Well! You're the one who said that mad master of the city would try to use this against me!” Harry said angrily, he uncrossed his arms to gesture uselessly with a shrug. “And the information you gave me doesn't make sense!”

“Oh?” Jean-Claude leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised. “I assure you it was quite complete, I wrote it out myself.”

“Then why did your master think I was to blame?”

Jean-Claude gave a slow blink, face unreadable. Harry glared. Yeah, that's what he figured.

“Everyone knows vampires die when you take their heads or hearts, and there was nothing in what you gave me that indicated any normal vampire hunter couldn't have done it.” Harry crossed his arms again with a huff. “So. Why did she think a witch had anything to do with these deaths?”

Jean-Claude tilted his head to the side as he watched him. “Do you truly believe any 'normal' vampire hunter could kill so many of us without drawing attention to themselves?”

“It's sort of their job.” Harry frowned. “And I doubt all of them are happy about vampires being legal.”

“I see.” Jean-Claude leaned forward to lean his chin on his crossed hands. “Perhaps you are simply so unimpressed with vampiric powers, protected as you are by your own, but hunters are still human, and they are no match for us.”

“They can still kill you,” Harry said flatly. “That is why they're 'vampire hunters'.”

“True, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude said with a smirk. “I do not dispute that. But they normally hunt us during the day, when we are at our weakest. These deaths all occurred at night, and to some of the strongest in the city.”

“So? That still doesn't mean magic was involved.”

“Really? So you believe a normal human could hold down a struggling master vampire, remove the heart and head, and all without being bespelled, or thrown off, or attracting attention?”

“No,” said Harry with a roll of his eyes. “But nothing says multiple hunters working together couldn't, and people don't become vampire hunters because they're entirely 'normal' anyway.”

Truth be told, most of the vampire hunters Harry had read about were witches and wizards, but it was a well known fact that muggles took up the profession as well—they just weren't as successful.

Jean-Claude lowered his hands to the desktop with a laugh. “I certainly hope you are wrong, mon sorcier,” he said. His lips curled up at the edges in true humor for the first time that night.

“Why?” Harry asked, honestly confused. “Don't you want to find out who's doing this?”

“Of course,” Jean-Claude raised a hand to his mouth, covering another small laugh, “but if vampire hunters are indeed behind this--”

“I'm not saying they are—just that I don't see any evidence of magic at work,” Harry interjected quickly.

Jean-Claude frowned lightly at the interruption, leaning his head back before continuing. “But, if they are...then my plan to have one of them aid us will fall apart before it even begins.”

Harry stared at him. “Uh... what?”

Jean-Claude laughed softly at the look on his face. Harry heard Robert shift behind him and looked back to catch the blonde vampire looking nervous. He turned back to the vampire at the desk with a frown.

“You're mad too, aren't you?” he said with an edge of shock colouring his voice. “Is it a vampire thing? Do you just all go batty as you get older or something?”

His only answer was a chuckle barely hidden by a pale hand and white lace. Harry sighed.

“So, it's just arrogance that made you think magic was used then?” he asked in annoyance.

“Well,” Jean-Claude collected himself and sat up, “I do not believe it is arrogance that led two vampires more powerful than myself to being killed without a struggle, mon sorcier.”

“Are you that powerful?”

Jean-Claude gave him a look. Harry felt his face flush and glanced away angrily.

“Right, but I'm not a vampire hunter, so that doesn't really count!”

Jean-Claude smirked. “Of course, mon sorcier.” The words tickled along Harry's skin, warm and pricking him playfully. How did Jean-Claude do that?

Harry huffed and rubbed the feeling out of his arms. “Anyway! There still isn't any evidence of spells or curses or anything magic in this. It really could just be humans, normal or not, and I don't have any way to search for someone like that with what I have now.”

“Is there nothing you could track from the site of their deaths, mon sorcier?” Jean-Claude asked speculatively.

“Not really, vampire deaths release too much magic,” Harry said with a shrug. All his research into vampires had at least helped with this much, even if it was technically a dead end. “I couldn't track anyone from the site, even if they were magical themselves.”

“Fascinating.” Jean-Claude leaned forward, seeming honestly interested in that bit of information. He watched Harry for a minute, lost in thought. “What about an animator, mon sorcier?”

Harry blinked. “A necromancer?” he said, lip curling in distaste. He thought about it, then shrugged with a frown. “I don't know. Maybe. I don't know how they sense magic, or what they'd feel from a vampire's death. You'd have to ask one.”

“An animator, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude corrected with a smile. “But, according to your magical theory, it could be possible?”

“I don't know,” Harry repeated, his brow creased in thought. Theoretically, necromancers were able to sense and manipulate corpses because of the traces of soul left behind in them, and theoretically, vampire deaths messed with ambient magic around them because of the violent expulsion of the soul when it finally left. But, as far as Harry knew, there was no record of what exactly necromancers felt magic-wise around vampires—alive or dead. “I guess they should be able to... why are you asking?”

“Because the vampire hunter I am trying to enlist is an animator, of course,” Jean-Claude responded with an almost cheerful lilt to his voice. “She also shares close ties to the police, so hopefully she will be able to track down our killer from both a magical and mundane angle.”

Harry stared at him. “You do know some necromancers can control vampires... right?”

“Oh, believe me, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude smirked darkly, “we are quite aware of that little tidbit of folklore. But, as I keep telling you, she is only an animator.”

“Right....” There was definitely something wrong with vampires if they really thought there was such a big difference between a weak necromancer and a powerful one. “Well...seeing as you're dragging someone else into this mess, I don't suppose your master is going to suddenly develop some sense and leave me the hell alone, is she?”

Jean-Claude laughed, loud and sudden, startling both Harry and the vampire behind him by the door. “Oh, I fear not, mon sorcier,” Jean-Claude chuckled as he leaned back to regard him. “There is surely no chance of that happening.”

“Great,” Harry muttered. Jean-Claude shrugged delicately, as if to say 'what can you do?' “So, even if I keep looking into this, she's still not going to get over being kicked off my property?”

“I do not think anyone will be 'getting over' last night anytime soon, mon sorcier,” the vampire said with a raised brow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another super long wait! My life was just crazy over the last year. But, hopefully, I'll be able to update sooner and more regularly after this. I've been working on the story as a whole rather than chapter by chapter, which means I now have about 2000 words for the next two chapters--a REALLY nice buffer to keep me working instead of just staring at a blank page! Let's all hope really hard that it works.
> 
> See you all next time! (before the year is out, right? Right.


	10. Freak Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampires do not know how to throw good parties.

 

Chapter 10-- Freak Night

 

Harry was beyond frustrated when he finally left Guilty Pleasures. Not only had he not gotten any more information about the murders from Jean-Claude, but the vampire seemed to want him to stop investigating all together! He just smiled that empty, fang-hiding grin of his and "reminded" Harry that some corpse-raising vampire hunter would take care of everything.

 

No need to worry what the loony master of the city would do when she found out Harry had stopped investigating. It was almost like Jean-Claude wanted his necromancer to find the killer rather than Harry.

 

He was absolutely certain that somehow, Jean-Claude was doing something sneaky. He just couldn't figure out what, but one thing was sure—Harry wasn't the type of person to ignore a mystery right in front of him.

 

Vampires wanted to threaten him over one of _their_ problems? They wanted to try and manipulate him into fighting for them? _Fine_ , whatever, Harry could deal with that and get on with his life no problem. He had learned plenty of sunlight and fire spells just for them anyway, and it wasn't like no one had ever manipulated him into a fight either. He could definitely deal.

 

But now a vampire wanted to try and gloss the whole mess over and tell him to mind his own business? _Not bloody likely_.

 

So when he left the closing strip club a few hours before dawn, he wandered over to one of the more recent death sites that hadn't been discovered by the police. All of the sites were in the vampire District, so it was only a couple blocks away.

 

Unfortunately, the books he'd read had shockingly understated how vampire deaths corrupted the surrounding area. The corner of the alley, tucked away behind a dumpster and hidden from the street, was like a black hole of dark magic.

 

Only magic tied to the start or end of life itself could strain the earth, the air, the very presence of a place, like this. The birth of a unicorn could make the area around it glow like a tiny sun, radiant and warm and safe. The death of a unicorn could affect an area too—burning everything to ash and sucking the light out of the air, making everything cold and dark and lonely, even in broad daylight. Unicorns were just special, no matter what they did.

 

Vampires though, their deaths did something else. They had died already, as humans, and then died a second time, and that second death left a scar on the world around them. As if their passing had torn open a wound in the living world, leaving a viscous feeling behind, of rot and ice melting into putrid sludge. Harry couldn't even get close to the actual place of death without feeling sick, and his spells fizzled and refused to follow anything that came out of that dark corner.

 

He leaned against the wall on the other side of the alley and stewed, staring at the spot. There was something weirdly off about it. Something non-magical, something that didn't make any sense.

 

So Harry stayed as long as his nose could bear the scent wafting out of the dumpster, thinking hard. The alley was a dead end, and there weren't any doors or windows with access to that particular spot. But there was enough room for at least three people to maneuver without being seen by any tourists walking along the street at the other end of the alley. All in all, the perfect place to kill someone without being seen.

 

Harry bit his thumb and stared blankly at the death site. Yeah, it _was_ the perfect place to kill someone, but the someone that was killed was a vampire, and, while Harry knew hunters could easily tag team a vampire until it was dead, they couldn't really do it here without at least _someone_ seeing them. Because—while there was room for three people to fight in close quarters behind the dumpster—vampire hunters were more successful darting near and away from their prey. Not even wizard vampire hunters could win an arm wrestling match with a vampire. No, they only got close enough to stab the heart and cut off the head. Killing blows only.

 

Could Jean-Claude have been right? Was Harry not giving the vampires enough credit in being able to fight back? Was he giving hunters too much?

 

Harry was starting to wonder. There was a definite history of purely muggle hunters taking out centuries old vampires, but he'd recently learned that vampires could take over someone's mind. How the magical world could have missed that ability, he didn't know, unless... their mind control powers didn't work on wizards?

 

_Merlin!_ Harry stood up and stared at the dark corner in shock. That would mean any muggle going against a vampire was practically doomed... and any wizard that heard about the failed attack would assume the muggle simply made a stupid mistake—which is exactly how failed, muggle-led vampire hunts were painted in magical books.

 

If vampires really held an advantage over muggles like that, then no wonder they thought magic was involved!

 

Harry clenched his jaw and strode out of the alley quickly. He'd check the other sites so long as he was out, but he had a bad feeling they'd be much the same as this one.

 

* * *

 

After checking the other sites Harry had finally headed home. He’d been right. The vampires had been right. Every single place, even though they were technically out of sight, were each far too exposed for anyone to kill a vampire without attracting attention. So, either magic was used, or some wicked powerful magical creature was the killer.

 

How annoying.

 

Harry had half-heartedly flipped through a few of his books on magical creatures before falling asleep on the couch. He needed more information, but he had no idea where to get it.

 

The next morning though, he got an idea. While eating breakfast, he scanned through the notes Jean-Claude had sent, finally selecting the number for the second victim’s “favored donor.” He would have preferred to seek out someone close to the first victim, but for some reason that vampire only seemed to have “rivals,” which Harry took to mean “people who didn’t like him.” Actually a lot of the contacts for the victims seemed to be rivals rather than friends. Harry wondered if that was just a vampire thing.

 

In any case, the “donor” Anthony Craig, had been asleep when Harry called, but was willing to meet him later in the afternoon. At least it gave Harry a chance to check on the thestrals and other animals, and his garden of course. After so much vampire drama the last few weeks, Harry was forgetting to take care of his farm. There were a lot of weeds waiting for him.

 

Harry finished up his chores around two, went inside for a quick lunch and shower, apparated back to the vampire district, and caught a taxi.

 

The apartment building was a run-down brick affair on a weedy street. The apartment itself was dingy and likely hadn't seen a mop or a sponge since it had been moved into. After Mr. Craig opened the door, he walked off, waving Harry toward a stained and sagging sofa of a possibly green shade. Harry followed uncertainly, he hadn’t really managed to speak much over the phone before the man had tiredly told him to just come over later and hung up.

 

"I don't know what I can tell you that the vamps don't already know,” the man said wearily, settling heavily down on the sofa. Harry gingerly sat next to him, wondering if the man had actually got any sleep when he looked so exhausted. "Not like I ever saw what happened to Lucas.”

 

"Anything you know about his disappearance could help," Harry said turning toward him. "When you saw him last, who might have been with, what mood he was in, anything really."

 

"Heh, they asked me all that too, except the last bit." Craig snorted.

 

"Oh?"

 

"Yeah, he was in a real bad mood, he was," Craig said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Pissed off about something, wanting to take it out on someone. Thought it'd be me, but something outside caught his eye."

 

"Outside where?" Harry asked, brow wrinkling.

 

"Oh, the house that was doing the hosting that night." Craig waved a hand dismissively. "There were others that wanted me, so I forgot all about him until he turned up dead before dawn."

 

"What do you mean? What was being hosted?" Harry asked in confusion.

 

"A freak party. There's one almost every weekend."

 

Harry stared at the man. He swore it was like all the vampire people spoke in code. "What's a freak party, exactly?"

 

"Oh, you know," Craig looked at him quizzically. "It's a party for freaks, you know..."

 

"I really don't."

 

"I thought you said you were friends with the Master, checking this out for her," Craig said suspiciously.

 

"I said I was doing her a favor, I never said I was her friend."

 

The man looked at him in confusion before shrugging. "Some favor. A freak is someone who likes vamps biting them, _enjoys_ it, you know?"

 

Harry blinked. "Okay... so, at this party, you said someone else was with you? Even though Lucas was your favorite?"

 

"Nah, he wasn't my favorite," Craig gave a careless wave, "I was his favorite."

 

"But... He let other vampires drink from you?"

 

"Well yeah, they like sharing their food you know." Craig shrugged. "It's like a social thing for them."

 

Harry just stared. "Okay...." He rubbed his forehead. Bloody vampires. "So, rather than drinking from anyone else at the party, he was angry about something, saw something outside and left, and that was the last you saw of him."

 

"That's the whole of it," Craig agreed with a nod.

 

Harry doubted that. For one thing, he had no idea what could have drawn Lucas out of a crowded house, for another....

 

"You really have no clue why he was angry?" Harry asked.

 

Craig shrugged. "Vamps get angry for all sorts of reasons. One of them postured wrong, the Master punished 'um, they lost some money, could be anything."

 

"Is it normal for them to take it out on... their food? Was it normal for Lucas to take it out on you?" Harry asked worriedly.

 

"Oh yeah," Craig said, nodding. "Having one of the higher up vamps favor you wasn't something to sneeze at, but it didn't do me too many favors. The more powerful the vamp, the bigger a temper. I'm real lucky Christine snatched me up once Lucas was gone." He leaned over to Harry conspiratorially. "She was always my favorite, but she couldn't let anyone know I was hers. She's way lower on the food chain than he was."

 

"Is Christine the one you were with the night Lucas died?" Harry asked.

 

"Yep," Craig said smugly. "She was being pretty naughty, taking my first blood of the night before old Lucas even got to the party."

 

"Why was he late?"

 

"Oh, the big wig vamps don't show up until the Master brings them. If she feels like being late, they all get to wait."

 

"Do you think that was why Lucas was in a bad mood?"

 

"Nah, that happened too often for them to bother getting upset about it." Craig thought a moment. "Might be why he went outside though. If the Master was upset with him, it wouldn't help him to grandstand against Christine. Might have got him in more trouble."

 

"Huh. So, he might not have seen something outside? He just went to look for something so he could vent safely?"

 

"Hah!" Craig laughed. "No way! He saw someone he could beat on. He was too lazy to look around for long. If he hadn't seen something outside, he would have picked another freak to take upstairs or something."

 

“Huh.” Harry sat for a minute, thinking. He wondered if all the victims had been in some kind of trouble with the master. But then why would she be so upset they were dead? She can’t be the one who killed them, but maybe someone else was targeting vampires she was angry at? “Who would know if the master was angry at someone?” he asked.

 

Craig thought about it. “Hmm, probably just the inner circle, all the big wigs, you know? I mean, us peons might figure it out after a while, but if you’re asking who’d know right when it happened, then just the vamps and food close to Her would know.”

 

“You didn’t count as, er, food close to her?”

 

“Nah,” Craig shook his head, “I was Lucas’ favorite bite at the freak parties, but I don’t think he ever had a favorite he kept with him.”

 

“A favorite near him…,” Harry remembered something Jean-Claude had told him once, weeks ago when they’d first met. “You mean like a pomme?”

 

“Ooh! Don’t hear that word too often.” Craig looked at him with a grin. “So, when you said you wasn’t a friend of the Master, did ya mean you were a friend of Jean-Claude’s?”

 

“What?” Harry blinked. “Why would you think that?”

 

Craig laughed. “Cause that Frenchie is the only one of the big guys that talks about their food so nice!”

 

Harry frowned. “Does that mean the other vampires close to the master didn’t have any… favorite food close to them?”

 

“Not really,” Craig said with a shrug. “There are some that live with the Master, but they’re really hers. The other vamps gotta get permission to drink from them, or they gotta get their own food from the freak parties.”

 

“Huh.” Vampires were a lot weirder than he thought. Wait… Harry’s eyes widened. “Hold on! You mean all the powerful vamps _have_ to go to the freak parties to get blood?”

 

“Well, not all a’them.” Craig frowned and leaned back. “I mean, Jean-Claude’s got his club, and there’s a couple that just find someone off the streets, but…yeah. Now that ya mention it, they kinda all do.”

 

Harry tried to recall all the info on the deaths. “Did you say the freak parties are only on weekends?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Craig said. He looked scared all of a sudden. “Hey, should I not go to those? Me and Christine, I mean.”

 

“I don’t know,” Harry said with a frown. He was pretty sure though, that the dates of all the deaths was on either a Friday or a Saturday. At least all the ones he could remember were. But then, the weekend was the busy time for the entire vampire district. It could just be a coincidence. “I don’t suppose you knew any of the other vampires that were killed?”

 

“Yeah,” Craig nodded, “Yeah, I knew a couple of them, not in person, but by sight. I saw them at the parties too.” He turned to Harry. “So, seriously man, are the parties dangerous?”

 

“I really don’t know,” Harry said, “and I wouldn’t tell the master yet either. She’s not really the sort to react calmly to unsubstantiated rumors I think.”

 

“Heh, you’re right on that. Still though… you’re investigating this, aren’t you?”

 

“I am, yes, but I still haven’t figured anything out yet.” Harry frowned. “I haven’t even seen one of these parties, and really, lots of stuff happens on the weekends. It could just be a coincidence.”

 

“If you went to a party, could you find out?” Craig asked him.

 

Harry blinked. “Maybe. Do you know when there’ll be one?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. There’s supposed to be one this weekend, I can find out where for you.”

 

“Don’t you already know?” Harry frowned.

 

“Nah, Christine and I were gonna have a night to ourselves.” Craig broke out with a huge smile. “We finally can now, so we’ve been enjoying ourselves.”

 

“Oh, well. Congratulations, I guess,” Harry said awkwardly.

 

“Thanks,” Craig said, still grinning. “Anyway, I’ll have to call a few people. I’m not even sure if the party is tonight or tomorrow. Should I call you when I find out?”

 

“Er, yeah, that would be great.”

 

“Cool. I hope it’s not the parties,” Craig admitted. “I mean, Christine and I are enjoying some alone time, but we both kinda like the parties too. I’d hate to never be able to go to them.”

 

Harry had no idea what to say to that, but he nodded vaguely and that seemed to be enough. After some small talk about Craig and Christine’s happy…life…together Harry finally left, making sure to get another promise from Craig to call when he found out the time for the freak party. Though, honestly, Harry wasn’t sure whether _he_ really wanted to go or not.

 

Unfortunately, Craig kept his promise and called him up later that evening to tell him the location of the freak party tomorrow night.

 

* * *

 

Harry really, _really_ didn’t want to go. A whole day spent fretting around the farm as he did chores, and trying to mentally prepare himself just gave Harry time to decide that, yeah, the party wasn’t a good idea. But he needed information, and these weird “freak parties” might be his only chance to get any.

 

Craig had told him about what happened at the parties, so Harry wouldn’t go in—raging dragons couldn’t make him go inside. All the victims had been killed elsewhere anyway, so Harry only really needed to watch people who left—vampires who were perhaps lured away. He was only going to watch for any suspicious activity.

 

By evening, Harry was ready to go, but he was still nervous. He wasn’t sure if that was because the party might be dangerous, or if it might be…gross… and he didn’t care either way. He was only going to get involved if it looked like someone was going to die. He’d be fine. Everything would be fine.

 

The thestrals seemed to have a very different opinion. Harry supposed they were just picking up on his own mood, because they surely had no reason to be as anxious as they were. When he was finally leaving, all four of them kicked up a fuss, knocking him off his broom and snorting furiously.

 

“Oh, leave off!” Harry flicked his wand at them, spraying Therdad in the face and trying to shove Rigel’s nose away from his cloak. “What’s with you lot?”

 

Whining and stamping were his only answer, and Harry didn’t have time to herd them into the barn and lock them up either.

 

“Fine!” he finally shouted when Azelah picked up his broom and trotted away with it. “Do you want to come with?”

 

The thestrals snorted at him, and Harry watched his poor broom get tossed into a rose bush. Azelah pranced back over to him looking quite pleased with herself.

 

“You guys are completely spoiled, aren’t you?” Harry frowned at them. He was never getting them an extra cow again, they could just sulk. He sighed. “Fine, but you all have to stay quiet and hidden, alright?”

 

Therdad whinnied and stamped, while the others tossed their necks.

 

“No,” Harry said sternly. “You guys aren’t really a match for vampires, nevermind whatever is killing them. You only did so well before because we have wards on the farm. It made the vampires a lot weaker, and my magic a lot stronger.” Harry glared at the thestrals until they quieted and lowered their heads. “You are not coming unless you all stay out of sight. Can you do that?”

 

Bob neighed and walked forward to bump his head into Harry’s chest. The other three whinnied softly.

 

“Alright then. Azelah, you’re still in trouble for taking my broom, you better hope it’s not scratched.”

 

The thestrals who keyed smugly, except Azelah who looked very put out. Harry shook his head and pulled himself up onto Bob’s back.

 

“Alright, so we’re going to a freak party,” he said glumly and sighed. “This is going to be _so_ much fun.”

 

Then they were off, winging their way north, past downtown and slowly circling a suburb with large, multi-story houses and expansive yards. The house they settled near bordered a cemetery, but maintained some privacy with thick trees all around the property. A row of vehicles were already parked in the driveway, and Harry could hear the noise of a crowd in the house.

 

“Er,” Harry looked around. With the trees edging every corner of the property, there were plenty of places to hide, but no place from which he could see both entrances to the house. He also didn’t fancy being caught on the ground under branches should a vampire happen to come out and spot them. “How about we go to the roof?” Harry looked at the thestrals. “Can you lot do that quietly? Like you do when you’re trying to surprise me?”

 

The thestrals all looked up at the steep roof of the freak house. After a few long seconds, Bob shook himself and then launched into the air. The others followed and soon they were landing on the shingles as softly as falling leaves.

 

“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered as he slid down to creep to the edge. “If you lot can be so quiet, why do you always stomp around the yard like a herd of hippogriffs?”

 

The party was disturbingly loud from the roof. Lewd moans and cries floated into the night, making Harry blush. He supposed there must be a window or two open, which was good for him. Useful even--if something bad happened inside, he’d know. But it did make him feel uncomfortably like a peeper.

 

Luckily, something was going on just a short way from the house in the trees.

 

“Hold on...is that the master vampire girl?” Harry wandered around the roof, trying to get a better view, but the trees were too close together. He was just considering flying over on Bob, when a ruckus started on the other side of the house.

 

He turned around and found the thestrals watching a group of vampires breaking into the house and shouting. Screams erupted from the house, and Harry was pretty sure someone was thrown through a window, if the sound of breaking glass was anything to go by. Below him, a woman and a man ran out of the woods he’d been trying to get a peek into.

 

The woman had a gun and was leading the way around the house, talking lowly. There was something cold and dark hanging around the woman, but it didn’t feel like a curse. In fact, it felt like death…oh no.

 

“I don’t think this is how these parties normally go,” Harry muttered to himself as he watched her. He was pretty sure she was the one who had been talking with the master, although _that_ she was nowhere to be seen. “I mean, the ones attacking can’t be whoever’s killing vampires. They’re much too noisy.”

 

He wondered if the woman could be the vampire hunter Jean-Claude had mentioned. She felt like a necromancer in any case, but did vampire hunters use guns? If it was her, was she also checking out the freak parties for clues? It might be useful to talk with her, if that was the case. As long as she didn’t use her magic, he would be fine. Probably.

 

When three vampires rushed out of the house and went after the woman, Harry didn't even think before his wand flicked at them. The bats they were brandishing jerked out of their hands and swung up to begin whacking them over the heads. Then he called over Therdad and flew down to land in the yard.

 

The woman and man he'd just saved had frozen before the car and were staring at the vampires getting hit by floating baseball bats. A vampire who had apparently followed them from out of the trees was staring at Harry as he slid off his invisible steed and walked toward them.

 

“Oh shit, oh no, oh god please no,” the vampire whispered frantically. He was backing away as Harry drew closer, practically shaking.

 

The woman turned to him and raised her gun. Harry stopped and blinked.

 

“Er,” Harry tried to say something.

 

“Back away slowly,” the woman said fiercely. Her arms were steady even as her eyes flickered between him and the vampires trying to wrestle with their weapons.

 

“I'm not trying to hurt you,” Harry said slowly, raising his hands. “I was just trying to help.”

 

The woman frowned, then glanced at the vampires behind him, who slowly becoming more frustrated as the bats avoided their hands and darted in to smack them.

 

“That was you?” she asked in astonishment.

 

“Well, yeah.” Harry shrugged. “I didn't want to do anything too damaging, or I'll end up in jail.”

 

“I'm pretty sure this could still get you arrested,” the woman smirked as she watched one of the vampires get his nose smashed in when he dodged his own bat by running into one of his mates’.

 

Harry frowned. “Well that's not fair. How am I supposed to stop vampires from attacking then?”

 

“You could try avoiding the freak parties,” she said with a crooked grin. She finally seemed to deem him not a threat and lowered her gun, looking toward the house for more attackers. Harry thought he heard fighting and turned to watch as well, backing away to get a better view of the front door.

 

“Hey, I wasn't attending said party,” he replied indignantly.

 

“You're not a freak then?” She asked.

 

Harry frowned at her. “I don't like that word.”

 

“Sorry.” She shrugged. “Not a vampire donor then?”

 

“No, I'm not. I was spying, sort of.”

 

The woman stiffened. “Oh? Any particular reason?”

 

Harry gave her a wry look and opened his mouth to answer, but just then, one of the fights inside the house spilled out a window next to him. Harry nearly fell as he backed away, and he ended up beside the woman who raised her gun toward the wrestling vampires.

 

“Dammit!” She dug a hand into her pocket and pulled out her keys. “Philip, start the car!”

 

“I can't drive,” the man said nervously.

 

The fight was drawing more combatants, and the attackers were beginning to notice their friends being harassed by bats. Some of them looked confused, but a couple were helping subdue the violent bits of wood. They wouldn't be distracted much longer.

 

“Uh, we probably should have left already,” Harry mentioned nervously. He was trying, as subtly as possible, to wave Therdad away from the vampires. He'd shown off enough magic to perfect strangers for one night and one thestral, even invisible, wasn't a match for five vampires. He suspected the other thestrals were still watching the goings on from the roof, so at least they were safe.

 

“I can drive,” the frightened vampire behind them spoke up.

 

They had backed away from the fighting vampires, and it looked like some humans too, into the middle of the parked cars when the woman looked at Harry again.

 

“What about you?” she asked.

 

“Oh, I don't drive either,” he said.

 

She sorted. “What you got dropped off to spy on a vampire freak show?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

The woman frowned, watching him carefully. “Need a ride?” she asked.

 

Harry blinked. “Well, I did want to talk to you...”

 

She frowned harder. “Why?”

 

Harry took a gamble. “The vampires asked you to look into the murders, right?”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

 

“They kinda manipulated me into the same boat,” he admitted with a snort.

 

“Willie, is this true?”

 

“Eh, sorta? The Master definitely wasn't happy with how negotiations with him went though, I can tell you that,” the jumpy vampire said as he unlocked the doors and slid in the driver's seat.

 

Harry laughed, loud and harsh. “I wouldn't call invading my home and trying to kill me a 'negotiation,'” he said snidely.

 

“Wait, how did you survive that?” The woman stared at him with wide eyes. “Nikolaos was there, wasn't she? How the hell are you still alive?”

 

“Well,” Harry hesitated.

 

“He's a fire witch,” Willie answered for him. “Lit the whole place up with sunlight too. Are ya gonna get in so we can leave, or what?” The vampire was watching the other vampires nervously. They had almost broken the flying wood enough to stop the spell on them.

 

The woman and Philip stared at him, but finally the woman nodded. “Yeah, get in the car—both of you.” She looked away from Harry to watch the struggling vampires with her gun held tight.

 

Philip got in the back seat without question, and Harry followed, sliding in after him and closing the door. They watched the woman move around the car to the passenger side door without taking her attention off the vampires. She had just managed to open her door and get in when some of the attackers noticed them and shouted angrily.

 

“Gun it!” the woman ordered. Willie didn't need to be told twice and they were off with a squeal of tires and flying gravel. The vampires and humans tried to chase after them, but the car reached the road and they were safe.

 

The woman turned in her seat to glare at Harry.

 

“Okay, now you're going to explain,” she said angrily. “How the hell are you not dead if Nikolaos was so pissed at you?”

 

“Well, you have to understand, she came after me on my farm,” Harry said quickly, bringing his hands up to wave off the suspicious look he was getting. “I have a lot of protection wards there that make me stronger and any threat weaker. I certainly wouldn't want to meet her on the street.”

 

“Why was she trying to kill you?”

 

“She thought I was the one killing vampires,” Harry said with a shrug.

 

“Are you?” she glared.

 

“No! I didn't even know there had been any murders!” Harry was indignant. Just because he could start a vampire bonfire, no one trusted him!

 

“Then how on earth did you end up investigating?” she asked with a frown. “Seems like a pretty big leap, from suspect to private eye.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Vampire politics. It's ridiculous, they made the mistake, but I'm the one supposed to do a favor,” Harry drawled snappishly, “just to show there's no hard feelings.”

 

She stared at him. “That doesn't make any sense.”

 

“That's what I said,” Harry agreed. “But I'm not sure vampires over a certain age have anything as mundane as common sense. They give it up for dramatic timing and evil laughter.”

 

The woman burst out laughing and Harry grinned. Willie and Philip just started at them as if they'd both lost their minds.

 

“Amen to that,” she said with a smile. “So what's your name, anyway?”

 

“Harry Potter,” Harry said, he held his hand out between the front seats. The woman reached back and gripped his hand hard. There was only the faintest twinge of death magic.

 

“Anita Blake.” She pulled back and regarded him. “So, why did you need to talk to me?”

 

Harry shrugged. “I was wondering what you'd figured out so far. Cause, honestly? I'm better at figuring out magical mysteries than murder mysteries.”

 

“Who is the master holding over you?” Blake asked suddenly. She was frowning again, but rather than anger or suspicion colouring her voice, there was worry.

 

“What?” Harry asked, confused by the sudden shift in attitude.

 

“Who are they threatening to get you to do their dirty work?”

 

“Oh!” Harry blinked, then frowned. “Just me. Apparently, being a witch means they can start some kind of personal war against me if I don't do a favor. Are they holding someone you know hostage?” he asked in concern.

 

Blake glanced away, then met his eyes, a crease on her brow. “Yeah. They rolled one of my friends.”

 

“Rolled? Wait, is that vampire mind control?” Harry asked.

 

“Sort of.” Blake lifted her arms in a shrug. “Basically, if a vampire uses their powers on an individual, they can take away that person’s control. And not just for one night. They can call that person and make them do anything, for as long as they want.”

 

“Merlin,” Harry breathed. So vampires had their own version of the Imperious, but it sounded a lot more powerful. “I had no idea.”

 

“Most people don't,” Blake said frankly. “It's illegal though, if you can prove they've done it.”

 

Harry frowned, remembering all the times magic had swirled wildly around Jean-Claude, and wondered. If he hadn't been able to resist whatever the vampire was doing, what would have happened to him?

 

“So,” Blake said slowly. “Since you've been looking into this too, and you're more into magic, is there anything you've learned?”

 

“Oh, right,” Harry blinked. “Well, it's difficult to investigate vampire deaths magically, but I talked to one of the, er, donors... and he said the last time he saw Lucas, the second victim, was at one of those...parties. So, I was trying to spy on it to see if maybe the killer picked their targets from them.”

 

Blake looked back at him. “Could you tell if someone had killed vampires?”

 

“Well... no,” Harry admitted. “I was mostly hoping to catch the killer in the act...”

 

“That sounds like a bad plan,” Blake smirked at him.

 

Harry laughed. “Well, I was kind of running out of options. People think magic solves everything, but there's only so much it can do.”

 

“That's the truth!” Blake laughed with him. Then she sobered. “But, it's a little disappointing, because I can't say I learned much more than you.”

 

“Really?” Harry asked in disappointment.

 

“Well,” Blake glanced at him. “I have a suspicion to check up on, but nothing concrete.” She frowned at him. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“How did you know the vampires had picked me to look into the murders too?” she asked seriously. “Was it some kind of spell?”

 

“Oh, no,” Harry shook his head. “Jean-Claude told me they were recruiting a...” he hesitated, “an animator. Who was also a vampire hunter?” Harry gave her a confused look. “Weird choice for vampires, but when I saw you, I could feel the power coming off you, and you were with the master of the city, so I just guessed it was you.”

 

“Jean-Claude told you?” Blake whispered. She clenched her jaw and turned to glare at Willie. “How long was he planning to drag me into this?”

 

“Hey, hey!” Willie the vampire was looking very nervous, but Harry figured if Blake was indeed a vampire hunter, then it was perfectly natural for him to be afraid of her. “I'm just a gopher, Anita! I don't know what the bosses are planning, I just do what I'm told!”

 

“Yeah sure! And I bet you never heard anything about it!” Blake said furiously.

 

“Look, I tried to warn you the Master didn't like being refused!” Willie insisted. “I told you to just take the money!”

 

Blake didn't look satisfied by that, but she let it go and sat back with her arms crossed.

 

“And what about you?” she snapped angrily over her shoulder.

 

Harry thought for a moment she was speaking to him, but the man next to him, Philip spoke up.

 

“You asked me before who sent me to you?” he said quietly. “It was Nikolaos. She thought I could seduce you and give you more incentive to find the murderer.”

 

“Why are you telling me that now?” Blake asked, turning in her seat to glare at him. This was more difficult than looking at Harry, as Philip was directly behind her seat.

 

“Because... I stood up to her,” Philip said in amazement, a small grin grew on his face. “I-I tried to fight her.”

 

Blake frowned at him for a full minute. The man’s face fell. Blake huffed and turned around to fall back in her seat.

 

“Yeah,” she said. “You did. That was pretty impressive.” Philip started to grin again. “Stupid,” Blake continued, and she looked back. The man was frowning sadly. Blake smiled at him. “But it was seriously brave of you.”

 

Philip's face lit up. “It was, wasn't it?”

 

Blake laughed. “Yeah, Philip. It was.”

 

Harry was starting to feel like a third wheel with the way the man was staring at the back of Blake's chair, so he cleared his throat.

 

“So, uh, neither of us has any clue what's going on then?” he asked awkwardly.

 

“Well, like I said, I've got something I need to look into,” Blake answered. “And I want to set up a meeting with the Church of Eternal Life, since they're so gung-ho about shutting down the freak parties. Maybe some of them went too far.”

 

“Are those the people who attacked the house?” Harry frowned. “They're from a church?” he said incredulously. He'd heard of religious fanatics, but he didn't think religion mixed well with vampires.

 

Blake turned to him with a tired grin. “Oh, yeah. The Church of Eternal Life—join and you get to live forever... at night anyway.”

 

“Wait. You mean...they turn you into a vampire just for joining their…uh, church?” Harry knew he must be making the most confused face, because Blake broke up laughing at him, and even Philip shared a grin. Willie just snorted. “America is so weird,” he said finally.

 

* * *

 

When the car arrived at Guilty at Pleasures, Harry insisted on getting out with Philip. The man and the vampire driver were both rather suspicious of him, but Blake's reaction surprised Harry.

 

"You're sure you'll be safe here?" she asked for a third time as Harry got out.

 

He shut the back door and turned to regard her with a smile. "Cross my heart," he said. "I can get a ride near here, and I promise you, my home is too far out of your way to be fair."

 

"Not if it keeps you alive," Blake countered with a frown.

 

"I can light vampires on fire, Blake. Trust me, no one's going to jump me while you aren't looking."

 

Blake huffed and leaned back in her seat, done with him. "Fine, but if you get bit on the way home, don't blame me."

 

"Oh no," Harry grinned, "I'll blame whatever tosser decided to lay a fang on me."

 

Blake laughed and shook her head. "I'd hate for anything bad to happen to you Potter. Not many people can make me laugh."

 

"Well now I'll have to stay alive."

 

“You do that,” Blake said seriously. She really did seem worried about him.

 

Harry watched her car drive off with a frown. If there was anything he hadn’t expected when he moved here, it was finding out he actually liked a necromancer. Still frowning in thought, he finally turned to follow Philip up the short steps of the undead strip club to speak with another unexpected friend.

 

The club was mostly empty, only some staff and one or two customers were still around, settling bills and cleaning up. Philip led the way back to the employee area and Jean-Claude's office. Harry expected the man to continue on to an employee lounge or bathroom or something, to fix his nose, but instead Harry ended up waiting behind him while he knocked on the office door.

 

"Come in," called a voice that was definitely not Jean-Claude.

 

They both walked in to find Robert the vampire behind the large wood desk.

 

"I'm back from taking Anita to the party," Philip said without preamble. Robert frowned at him, then glanced pointedly at Harry.

 

"You were injured?" the vampire asked, eyebrow cocked as he looked at Harry.

 

"Yeah." Philip paused. "The Church attacked the house again."

 

Robert looked back at Philip. "I see. And Miss Blake?"

 

"She's fine," Philip said with a wave to the door. "She's dropping Willie off on her way home."

 

Robert sniffed testily. "And, may I ask how it is Mister Potter found you?"

 

"So long as you're not rude about it," Harry interjected. "I found them because I went to the party. Investigating and such."

 

Robert frowned at him. "You were told to allow Miss Blake to take care of this matter."

 

"I was also told that not doing anything could get a vendetta started against me, so excuse me if I feel like getting involved." Harry glared right back and crossed his arms. "Where's Jean-Claude?"

 

"Clearly, he is not here at this time."

 

"Well when will he be here?" Harry asked impatiently.

 

Philip turned to him with his mouth open like he had something to say, but Robert stood suddenly and spoke loudly before he could. "He is otherwise occupied and does not have the time to indulge you. So, Mister Potter, if you would kindly leave?"

 

Harry looked between the man and vampire with a frown. But Philip seemed to have caught the hint and was avoiding Harry's eye.

 

"Alright, fine," he said angrily. "I'll just come back tomorrow then."

 

"That is entirely unnecessary," Robert called out as Harry turned and strode from the room.

 

Harry slammed the door behind him and stalked all the way back out, human and vampire employees practically jumping out of his path. Bloody minded, effing confusing, useless vampires!

 

Harry wondered if Blake was getting as much of a run around as he was. Probably, considering her temper when Jean-Claude's name had come up. He also wondered if this whole mess wasn't just some vampire game, to mess with people's heads. If so, would he and Blake teaming up help them, or make things worse?

 

There was no way to tell until it was too late, but Harry was willing to take the risk. Because now, he wasn't just annoyed, oh no. He was good and proper effed off, and he was going to get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing he did. 

 

It was a good thing Harry was so determined, because when he made it home with his wayward thestrals, a special alarm talisman he’d set up was shrieking and smoking like a banshee on fire. The talisman was supposed to react only when a vampire had died within the city limits.

 

The killer had struck again.

  
  



	11. Witch's Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has just run out of patience for basically everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahaha! ^_____^ Bet you guys thought I was done updating!! HaHA! I got this done too~ Hope you've all enjoyed the slew of midsummer updates from me! Wish me luck for the fall and don't forget to comment!
> 
> ((Also, I've just become aware that something happened to the AB fanfic site Pommedesang, and I'm rather upset about it. So I'm gonna go cry about all the lost fics!))

  
  


Chapter 11-- Witch's Curse

 

 

It was still dark the next morning when Harry stumbled downstairs to answer the phone that had been ringing off and on before he woke up enough to realize the noise wasn't coming from a dream. It was far too early for someone who'd only got to sleep an hour ago, but obviously the person on the other end wasn't going to give up.

 

"H'llo?" Harry mumbled into the phone.

 

"HARRY! OH THANK MERLIN IT FINALLY WORKED! I WAS WORRIED THE LINE MIGHT HAVE BEEN CHEWED UP BY THE FISH!"

 

Oh dear. Harry held the handle well away from himself and blinked at it blearily. He'd left his glasses upstairs, damn.

 

"Oy, Ron," Harry finally groaned. "You know I can hear you, mate. Hermione explained how this works, didn't she?"

 

"WELL, YEAH, BUT YOUR VOICE IS SO TINY, MUST BE THE DISTANCE. I'LL JUST SPEAK UP SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO STRAIN YOUR EARS," Ron shouted back.

 

"Listen, mate," Harry said loudly. "Is Hermione's mum around?"

 

"ER, DON'T THINK SO, NO." Came the confused reply.

 

"So, she's probably trying to sleep?"

 

"WELL, YEAH, IT'S PRETTY EARLY - OH DAmmit...," Ron trailed off suddenly. Harry thought perhaps he was holding the receiver away and looking around for any recently woken in-laws. There was some muffled talking coming over the line.

 

Harry yawned and took the phone with him over to the sofa to wrap himself under a quilt. It was a little chilly, but started to warm as Harry tucked himself in. By the time Ron came back, he was snug and starting to drift off a bit.

 

"Hey! Harry, you still there?" Ron hissed loudly, but still somehow like he was trying to speak in a whisper.    
  


"Yeah, mate," Harry said with a yawn. "You get scolded again?"

 

"It's not my fault these telly-speakers are so unreliable," Ron loudly whispered.

 

"They're pretty reliable actually. You've just got to stop shouting so you can hear who you're talking to."

 

Ron didn't respond to that, but Harry didn't expect him to. In a lot of ways, Ron was very set in his wizarding biases, and a deep mistrust of muggle technology was part of that. It would probably be another couple of years before Ron actually believed anyone who tried to explain how telephones worked.

 

"So," Harry yawned again, "how's life?"

 

"Oh, it's good actually. Did Hermione tell you about my promotion?" Ron's voice rose with obvious excitement.

 

"Yeah, pretty wicked considering you're still fresh out of training," Harry congratulated him. "She sounded really proud of you. Something about paperwork?" He teased.

 

"Heh, yeah," Ron mumbled that part quietly at least. "I wanted to tell you myself, but the extra training course I've signed up for with all my regular work hours is just killer, mate. I was only able to call you today because we start late this morning."

 

"I figured it was something like that." Harry yawned again.

 

"Damn, sorry, Harry," Ron said sheepishly. "I keep forgetting the time difference. This is a tad too early for you, isn't it?"

 

"Oh, no," Harry said with a glance out the dark windows. He sat up and fought off another yawn. "I just got to bed really late last night."

 

"Really? Is farm living that busy?"

 

"Well no," Harry paused. "Actually, can I ask you something, without you, you know, er, telling Hermione?"

 

"What's going on?" Ron asked seriously.

 

"Nothing!" Harry said quickly. He groaned and shook his head. 

 

"Well, something, but I don't want to stress out Hermione. You know how she worries, even when she doesn't need to!"

 

"Yeah, she does that," Ron said slowly. "Are you doing anything she  _ should  _ worry about?"

 

"Of course not!" Harry insisted. "Just there's some news going on over here, and-"

 

"Oh, you mean like that witch trial a few months ago?" Ron said in realization.

 

"Yes! Exactly like that - nothing to do with me, but if Hermione finds out about it -"

 

"Oh yeah," Ron said knowingly. "She'll totally panic."

 

"Exactly!" Harry repeated with a nod.

 

"Alright then. What's happening?"

 

"Well, someone's going around the city, murdering vampires and...."  _ He was trying to find out who because he got caught in some elaborate vampire game and he didn’t want to call for help from the magical authorities because they’d erase his vampire friend’s memories. _ And he was curious, but he knew better than to say any of that.

 

Ron was silent, but Harry didn't continue.

 

"And...? What's the problem?" Ron finally asked.

 

"No one knows who's doing it, or how," Harry finally said, leaving himself out of it. "It's got the whole city pretty shaken up."

 

Ron didn’t say anything for a minute, then, “Merlin, you’re trying to find the killer, aren’t you?”

 

“What!” Harry sputtered. “No way! That’s crazy-I mean, seriously, why on earth would I-”

 

“Harry,” Ron interrupted. “Don’t be a berk.”

 

Harry bit his lip and pressed his head against the sofa cushion. “Right, sure.”

 

“So, you’re looking for a vampire killer,” Ron said flatly.

 

“Yeah,” Harry admitted with a groan. “That’s been my week.”

 

“Bloody hell, I  _ knew _ you were going to get bored sooner or later!” Ron muttered.

 

“I am  _ not _ bored-”

 

“But seriously?  _ Vampires?” _ Ron groaned. “Couldn’t you find something a little more, I donno,  _ tame?” _

 

“Oh for-” Harry sat up and glared into space. “What exactly would you suggest then? Werewolves? Muggle witch hunters? A bloody necromancer?”

 

“Don’t even joke about that!”

 

Harry snapped his mouth shut on a snide comment about Blake. Yeah… that might be going too far, and it  _ was _ rude to the woman.

 

“Alright, but I still think you’re making too big a deal out of this,” Harry huffed.

 

“There’s something killing a lot of vampires and you’re asking me for help, Harry. Exactly how big a deal  _ should  _ I be making of it?”

 

Harry didn’t say anything to that and Ron huffed across the line.

 

“Fine, then. What do you need?”

 

“Really? You’ll help me?” Harry blinked dazedly and wondered if he’d fallen asleep and started dreaming.

 

“Of course you idiot! How else am I going to keep you from doing anything too dangerous if I don’t?”

 

“Ron. You’re on a different continent.”

 

“Exactly. That’s why you’re going to do exactly what I tell you,  _ and nothing else _ ,” Ron said firmly.

 

“And you won’t tell Hermione?” Harry asked.

 

“Are you crazy?” Ron exclaimed. “I’m telling her the minute I get home!”

 

“Wait a second-” 

 

“Then she can yell at you, and maybe you’ll think twice before messing around with bloody vampires! Of all things!”

 

“That’s really not fair,” Harry said. “It’s not like I woke up and  _ decided _ to get involved! It just sort of happened.”

 

“Yeah,  _ lots _ of stuff just  _ happens _ with you,” Ron muttered. “Whatever. Just tell me what’s going on over there and let's figure this out.”

 

Harry glared at the wall, but he was too drowsy to argue properly, and Ron  _ was  _ helping him. 

 

“There’s ten dead vampires, no one’s seen it happen, and I can’t track anything from the death sites,” Harry finally said tiredly. “How am I supposed to investigate if there aren’t any witnesses or traces of the killer?”

 

“Yeah, vampire deaths make most tracking spells impossible,” Ron said. “Their magic blankets over everything like it exploded or something.”

 

“I know! I just  _ said-” _ Harry blew out a breath in annoyance. Maybe he was too tired for this.

 

“Yeah, and  _ I _ just said ‘most’ tracking spells are impossible,” Ron interrupted smugly. “If you want to find anything near a vampire’s death site, you need to use a particular net trace spell set up at least four meters away from the center point of the death.”

 

Harry blinked. “Seriously? A net tracer? Won’t that catch even more interference from the death magic emanating from the site?”

 

“Not if you set the parameters of the spell to filter out death aligned magics,” Ron said happily. “Lots of dark wizards in the Middle Ages started using vampire deaths to hide what they were doing and where they went. But aurors back then figured out a way to look only for traces of life based magic in the area, and suddenly vampire deaths were more like signal fires than smoke screens!”

 

“Did you learn all that from your training course?” Harry asked, impressed. That sounded more like a Hermione lecture than a Ron one. Maybe he really had fallen asleep.

 

“Heh, sort of,” Ron said sheepishly. “There’s a lot of optional reading the instructor suggested and, I mean. I just don’t want to let anyone down, and you never know what could be useful, right?”

 

“Well, it’s definitely coming in handy now!” Harry grinned sleepily. “Thanks Ron. That’s just what I needed.”

 

“Yeah, well don’t thank me yet,” Ron said quickly. “I’m helping you figure out who’s killing vampires, but I want you to promise me you won’t go after them, alright Harry?”

 

“I’m not planning to you know.”

 

“Promise me, Harry,” Ron said, voice going quiet in a way that had nothing to do with whispering.

 

Harry was silent. He hadn’t heard Ron sound like that since the war.

 

“I mean it, Harry. If anything happens to you while you’re over there… Hermione and I would never forgive ourselves.”

 

“You two don’t need to protect me anymore you know.”

 

“We said we’d be with you through everything, you didn’t think we meant only until the war was over, did you?”

 

“Different continents,” Harry reminded him.

 

“Yeah, so you went off somewhere no nasty reporter or ministry worker or nosy well-wisher could reach you. That doesn’t mean we aren’t still here for you,” Ron insisted.

 

Harry sniffed and curled his toes under the quilt. “Thanks,” he said softly. “I… I’m really looking forward to you guys visiting me after the baby’s big enough.”

 

Ron snorted. “You’re visiting us for Christmas you know, you better not forget!”

 

“I won’t,” Harry promised, “and really, I’m  _ not _ going after the killer. I just need to find out who’s doing it. Once that’s done, I’ll back off, alright?”

 

“I sure hope so.” Ron sighed. “Alright, you’re falling asleep, I can hear you yawning. You’ll be careful?”

 

“I will, promise. I’ll write to you about how everything goes after too.”

 

“Okay… I’m still telling Hermione, but I’ll convince her to give you a few days before calling.”

 

Harry let out a slow breath. “Thanks mate. I’ll try and get everything finished before then.”

 

“Good luck, and call if you need anything else,” Ron said sternly. “And go back to sleep, you really sound like you need it.”

 

“Okay Ron.” Harry smiled and stretched out his legs. “Thanks again.”

 

Harry could tell Ron was still worried, and probably wanted to talk him out of doing anything with vampires, but he didn’t. Which was a relief, because he did end up falling asleep on the sofa only moments after hanging up.

 

When Harry woke up again, closer to noon, he ate, apologized to the thestrals for leaving them in the barn so long and fed the animals, then he went back into town. He had a new plan for investigation and he was finally going to get to the bottom of this vampire murder business, and get on with his life.

 

Except then he didn’t.

 

* * *

 

Harry was becoming sadly used to walking under that obnoxiously pink glowing sign; he didn't even sigh this time. The vampire bouncer also let him through without pause, though he still got a strange look. Harry ignored it.

  
Inside, the crowd was thinner, not quite as wild as the last time he passed through. The mostly naked man on stage was doing some elaborate twirling dance with what looked to be ropes swinging off him, and the people cheering him clearly loved it. But most of the tables were empty, and topless servers were doing more cleaning than serving in the shadows.

 

No one bothered him as he walked through to Jean-Claude's office.

 

Once he reached the door, Harry knocked and waited. The voice that bid for him to enter, however, was definitely  _ not _ the vampire he was used to. Behind the desk was the blonde vampire, Robert. Harry frowned at him in confusion.

 

“Ah, the witch returns,” Robert said glancing at him briefly before returning to a large book open in front of him.

 

“Yeah... So, where's Jean-Claude?” Harry asked as he walked closer. “Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

 

Robert stopped scribbling to look up at him. Harry forced himself not to squirm under that piercing gaze.

 

“As you can see, he is still not here,” Robert finally said. “Nor should you be.”

 

Harry frowned then decided to ignore that last bit. “Well, where is he then?”

 

“That is not your concern.”

 

“Why not?” Harry paused, thinking. “Does he not want to see me or something?”

 

That would hurt, if it were true. Not that it mattered or anything, just, Harry had started to feel like they might actually be friends, vampire or not, and he'd miss having someone to talk to.

 

“I'm certain he will be happy to know of your interest, sir,” Robert frowned testily, his lips twitching slightly as if they wanted to dip lower, “but alas, he is unavailable.” The vampire stood. “I am afraid you will have to wait to see him, might I suggest making an appointment first?”

 

“Okay,” Harry said slowly. He knew he was frowning himself, but that was more from confusion now than annoyance. “Who am I supposed to talk to about the murders then?” he asked, only a little snide.

 

Robert froze and stared at him. “Do you have information?”

 

“Sort of,” Harry said with a grimace. “I still can't track anything, but I think I figured something out.”

 

“And what would that be?”

 

“Where's Jean-Claude?”

 

Robert stared at him. Harry stared right back, refusing to back down. Finally, it was the undead who blinked first. Slowly, and deliberately, but Harry still counted it as a win.

 

“He is currently detained,” Robert admitted with a quiet sigh.

 

“What?” Harry frowned.

 

“The Master is punishing him for an... indiscretion.”

 

“Okay, what in Merlin's name does that mean?” Harry fought not to kick the desk or wave his wand. Why was getting information from a vampire like pulling their fangs out? “What did he do?”

 

Robert shrugged elegantly. “It does not matter,” he said. “What does, is whatever you have learned.”

 

“If you’re not going to tell me anything, why should I?” 

 

“It is not any of your business what he does,” Robert looked down his nose at Harry, “and  _ you  _ are the one who insisted on investigating despite Jean-Claude’s generous maneuvering to relieve you of any responsibility in the matter.”

 

“I was never responsible for this mess in the first place!” Harry crossed his arms in annoyance. “And, what, you mean forcing that Blake woman to investigate instead? Cause if that was really Jean-Claude’s idea, I have a few words to share with him, none of them good!”

 

The standoff was interrupted by a rapid tapping at the door, and before Robert could say a thing, the door opened and a woman poked her head in. She was smiling, though it faded somewhat when she noticed Harry in the room.

 

"Oh, um, sorry! I thought you'd be alone now," she said. Though she didn't seem particularly sorry, as she came in and closed the door behind her. The grin she sent toward Robert seemed entirely unrepentant as well. The vampire went ridiculously soft around the edges and smiled softly back.

 

"Well, guess you're too busy to speak with me," Harry said with a shrug. "Oh bloody well!" He turned to leave.

 

"Just one moment." Robert stalked around the desk, glaring again. "If you have information on the killer, then you must report it."

 

"Thought I wasn't supposed to be investigating anymore?" Harry frowned and crossed his arms. "I'd just be some nosy busybody if I go poking around in matters that don't concern me. Right?"

 

Robert looked like he was gritting his teeth. "And yet, monsieur, the sooner this matter is resolved, the sooner we can all get on with our lives."

 

"Oh! This is that forest witch that Nikolaos wanted JeanClaude to recruit?" The woman who'd come in earlier suddenly clapped her hands and came to stand between them. She looked Harry up and down eagerly, as if trying to see where 'witch' was written out on his body, or maybe if he had twigs growing out somewhere. Honestly,  _ forest witch _ , what the hell?

 

Robert took her arm gently and pulled her against his side. "Yes, Monica, the very same," he said, only a little annoyance slipping through as he lowered his voice for her.

 

"And you've already found something?" she asked excitedly. "Even before Anita?"

 

"Anita?" Harry repeated slowly.

 

"Oooh, yes! She's the police animator Jean-Claude wanted. She's friends with one of my friends, Catherine, we work together you see, so -" the woman, Monica, appeared content to chat with Harry as if they were old acquaintances, but Robert hushed her suddenly, watching Harry.

 

Harry had no clue what his face must look like, but figured it wasn't terribly good, because once Monica stopped talking and actually looked at him she tried to step back.

 

"So, who's Catherine?" Harry asked, trying his best to appear reassuring.

 

"No one of your interest, monsieur Harry," Robert said quickly. He turned to direct Monica over to the side of the room, away from Harry.

 

"Oh, I don't know. If she happens to be Ms. Blake's friend who happens to be the one vampires are threatening to get Blake to investigate for them, then I think she'd be very much of interest to me." Harry was glaring now, but found he didn’t care.

 

Monica laughed suddenly, loud and startled. "Oh, but Catherine's fine!" she said quickly, and she was grinning from ear to ear, but Harry thought it looked worried rather than happy. 

 

"Really, she's on a business trip! Out of town, and by the time she comes back, this whole mess will be finished!"

 

"If she's not even here, how are the vampires threatening her?" Harry asked. "Why would Blake still investigate if her friend is safe?"

 

Monica laughed again, too fast and higher pitched than last time, and her smile stretched a little wider. Robert said nothing and placed his hands on Monica's shoulders as he moved her to sit down on a plush loveseat pushed against the wall.

 

"I see," Harry said quietly. "And you and this Catherine... how did you say you knew each other?"

 

"Oh, well, we -"

 

"I think it is time for you to leave," Robert said quickly. "I do not believe you have any information about the killer, and are simply wasting time." He turned to face Harry, and stepped forward, face serious.

 

"They aren't alive," Harry said quickly.

 

Robert paused. "What?"

 

"The killer, they aren't a human or anything living." Harry stepped to the side while Robert looked like he was choking on a lemon. Harry knew he was wondering which vampire enemy of Nikolaos’ was killing her people.

 

"So, you and this Catherine are friends then?" Harry asked Monica.

 

She blinked up at him and gave a wavering grin. "Yes...?"

 

"And you aren't worried about her? At all?" Harry frowned. "Blake seems to think she'll be killed if the killer isn't found. The killer that no one has been able to find for weeks, apparently."

 

"Oh, but Anita will definitely find them. Or you of course!" Monica laughed as if she'd made a joke. "And everything will be just fine!"

 

Harry started at her. "But... I'm not her friend," he said.

 

Monica smiled and shook her head slightly, as if asking what he meant. 

 

"If I find the killer, won't Catherine still be in danger?" He asked. "The vampires are threatening her to get  _ Blake _ to find the killer after all - not me. So, if I find the killer first, won't that mean Blake failed?"

 

Monica's lips were twisting as she tried to work through this logic. By Harry's standards, he didn't think it made sense either. But he knew better than to assume others, particularly vampires, shared his morals.

 

"Of course your friend will be safe," Robert said firmly. He gave her a gentle smile, but turned a glare to Harry.

 

Monica looked relieved, and smiled up at the vampire as if he'd brought the moon down from the heavens for her.

 

"Really? So your master of the city won't have any hard feelings for whoever fails her? Cause, I gotta say, I got exactly the opposite impression when I met her." Harry snorted and glared right back. "It's why it's safer for me to keep investigating, isn't it?"

 

"Jean-Claude told you that you were free to do as you please! There is no need for you to continue!" Robert snapped. His grip on Monica's shoulder tightened, making her wince.

 

"But she'll never forget, will she?" Harry said angrily. "And she'll always hold a grudge, and she'll make sure she gets even sooner or later- right?"

 

Harry was closer to shouting by the end, but managed to keep his voice even. Monica was staring at him, mouth agape and a stunned look on her face, while Robert had gone startlingly blank.

 

"So, this Catherine then." Harry turned back to the woman. "You really aren't worried about her at all?"

 

"She's going to be fine!" Monica said fiercely. She looked like she wanted to stand up and maybe slap him, but Robert's hand was still on her shoulder and he appeared to be in that odd, stone like state Harry had seen Jean-Claude do. "Aubrey won't go after her, Jean-Claude won't let him!"

 

Harry had a moment to wonder who the hell Aubrey was, before her words struck him. Why would Jean-Claude have any say in this, unless…. Robert had said Jean-Claude “arranged” things so Harry wouldn’t need to investigate anymore.

 

"Wait, you mean this whole thing - manipulating Blake by threatening her friend - this was Jean-Claude's idea? Not Nikolaos, but Jean-Claude's!" Harry stared at the desk behind Robert and Monica, wide eyed and beginning to feel like an utter fool.

 

"It is most certainly the Master's plot," Robert said hastily. "Monica only means that she trusts Jean-Claude to help Catherine if matters turn sour."

 

Harry blinked and focused back on the vampire. Robert was blank again, and impossible to read for someone who'd never been much good at reading people to begin with. But, Harry had spent over a month meeting up with a vampire to chat, and one thing he'd learned from Jean-Claude was that going blank meant he had something to hide.

 

"Because of course if Nikolaos says Catherine should die, then Jean-Claude will be first in line to defend her," Harry said, thinking of the night the master of the city had visited him- thinking of Jean-Claude in the crowd, not really looking at him, and certainly not saying anything.

 

Robert didn't say anything now either.

 

"That's what I thought," Harry said. He looked at Monica. “How the hell do you know so much about this anyway?”

 

“Don’t answer that,” Robert said quickly. He all but pulled the woman’s head against his side, watching Harry carefully.

 

Harry looked between them with a frown. “She’s in on it, isn’t she?” he said slowly. “And you claim to be Catherine’s friend!”

 

“We  _ are _ friends!” Monica blurted out. Robert tightened his grip on her shoulder and tried to move her behind him. A move that didn’t really work since Monica was trying to lean around him to shout at Harry.

 

“Then why aren’t you worried about her?” Harry glared at the woman. “You know why she’s in danger, you say you’re her friend yet… you…” Harry trailed off and just stared at her. A really nasty thought had just come to him. “It’s your fault, isn’t it?”

 

Monica’s eyes widened and her breath caught on a shaky laugh. “No... _ no _ , of course not!” Her voice was too high and there was an odd sound like she was close to hiccoughing. 

 

Harry looked up from her twisted face to Robert’s. The vampire was utterly empty, just watching him, waiting for him to do something.  _ It really was her fault. She actually... _

 

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “So, let me get this straight,” he said, eyes opening to pin the woman before him. “You gave the master's vampires your friend... just to blackmail Blake into helping them?”

  
“No!” Monica shook her head and tried to smile. “I knew she'd be out of town the day after, and we just needed Anita to go along. Catherine wasn't in any real danger!”

  
Robert twitched, and his other hand came up to circle around the woman’s head, as if trying to shield her. His expression never wavered and his eyes never left Harry. But Monica still looked up at him with a much brighter smile than she'd been giving Harry and sat up straighter as if just that gave her strength. So she didn't notice when Harry's eyes grew dark and his face pinched into a sneer.   
  


“Right,” he said. “ _ Right _ .”   
  


He stepped toward them, the muggle woman and her vampire lover, because what else could they be? Robert went stiff and watched Harry like he might explode, but Monica just smiled at him, as though nothing was wrong. Harry stopped just in front of her chair and took a deep breath. He held his hand out.   
  


She looked at it, confused and glanced back at Robert for instruction, or maybe comfort.   
  


“I'm not angry with you,” Harry said frankly, holding his hand out patiently.   
  


Robert started at him, but nodded to his lover. She hesitated a moment longer, then smiled hesitantly and clasped Harry's hand with hers.   
  


“So, just answer honestly,” Harry said slowly. She looked up at him and finally, finally, there was just the slightest crease in her brow. “Catherine was your friend, and you gave her life away, is that right?”

  
“What?” Monica laughed. It was a nervous, hope-no-one-hears-me sort of laugh, and she tried to pull her hand away. When that didn’t work, and Harry continued just placidly watching her, her smile fell away and a pinched, worried look came into her eyes. “It wasn't like that! They were going to hurt me if I didn't help!”

  
“So, you traded her life for your own safety then?” Harry said calmly.   
  


“No! She was going out of town!” Monica was talking faster, and pulling on her hand harder, trying to get Harry to let go. Her lips were shaking and her forehead was creased. “Catherine was  _ fine _ ! They only needed her to get Blake to help!”

  
“You said you weren't angry,” Robert said suddenly. At some point he had sat next to Monica, holding her tight against him, but simply watching until this moment.   
  


Harry looked up at him, and something in his eyes must have shown because Robert flinched.   
  


“I said I wasn't angry with her, I didn't say I wasn't angry in general.”

  
Robert reached around to grab Harry's arm, but hissed and let go when touching him burned. Harry rolled his wand in his hand, hidden behind his thigh.

“Let go of her!” the vampire snarled, holding his hand to his chest and glaring at Harry for all he was worth. He seemed to regret keeping quiet until it was too late.

  
“Calm down,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes. “I just want her to admit it out loud.”

  
“Admit what?” Monica cried, yanking hard on his hand and failing to budge it a single centimeter. She stood up and tried to back away, but the loveseat and Harry's refusal to move kept her trapped. Robert kept a hand on her, but now seemed to be huddling with her more than offering her comfort.   
  


“Admit that you betrayed your friend.” Harry's eyes narrowed. “She trusted you, and you gave her life away to save yourself! Say it,  _ out loud! _ ”

  
“Fine!” Monica wept. She gave up on trying to get her hand out of Harry's and fell to her knees on the floor, letting her arm hang from his grip. “ _ Fine! _ I betrayed Catherine! I didn't want to be tortured and they asked for her, so, yes! I got her to the club! Her and Blake, so the master's people could roll her!”

  
She sobbed for a moment, then glared up at him, tears running down her face and leaving streaks of black makeup in their wake.   
  


“But I knew she'd be okay! Blake wouldn't have left her, and Jean-Claude wouldn't have let Aubrey take her!” Monica had a desperate, frantic gleam in her eyes. Harry had a feeling she was trying to convince herself, as much as him.

  
“You didn't know what would happen,” Harry said with an exasperated breath. “All that mattered to you was saving your own skin.”

  
He stared at her, and she looked away, sniffling and hiccupping quietly. Harry sighed again, then knelt down before her. He tightened his grip for a moment to get her to look at him.   
  


“I want you to promise something,” he said seriously. “You and this Catherine are not friends.”   
  


She opened her mouth to argue and he tightened his grip again, making her wince.   
  


“No.  _ You. Aren't. Friends _ ,” he said harshly. “She trusted you, and you betrayed her.”

  
Monica whimpered and her eyes kept darting away from him, but she didn't try to argue again.   
  


“ _ So _ , what you're going to promise is that you are going to make that very, very clear to her.” Harry stood back up and glared down at her. “She thinks you're her friend, and you are going to convince her you're not. Understand?”

  
Her eyes widened with each word Harry rained down upon her, and shook her head frantically.   
  


“No! She's my friend!” she cried. “Catherine is—“

  
“No. She's. NOT!” Harry roared. Monica flinched as far away as her arm and the loveseat behind her allowed, and even Robert leaned back from him. Harry took deep breaths between clenched teeth before he was able to calm down again. “ _ No _ . Catherine is  _ not _ your friend, because you are not hers.” Harry glared at her and she shivered. “You threw her life away as if it meant nothing!”

  
Monica started crying again, more earnestly and loudly than before.   
  


“So,” Harry continued, giving her arm a yank to make sure she listened, “you are going to promise that you will do everything you can to make certain she knows just how little her life means to you. You won't talk to her, you won't meet with her, you will do  _ nothing _ that could be taken as a sign of friendship with her ever again.”

  
Harry glared at her hunched and shaking form, and pulled on her arm until she rose to her knees.   
  


“Promise!”

  
“I-I,” she gasped and whimpered, “I promise....”

  
Harry let her go with a snort and she collapsed with a cry. Robert was kneeling by her side in an instant. He held her close and glared up at Harry.   
  


“You should leave,” the vampire said angrily.   
  


“Glad to.” Harry said as he turned and walked calmly to the door.   
  


“Why are you so cruel?” Monica whispered.   
  


Harry turned to see her glaring fiercely up at him, safe again in her lover's arms and not at all repentant. If she ever was.   
  


“I have never betrayed a friend,” he said simply.   
  


“I didn't!” she screamed out, sitting up and leaning toward him in fury. “Catherine is my friend, I could never—!” Her voice cut out on a gasp and she fell weakly back into Robert's embrace.

  
Harry watched her, eyes empty. Then he smiled.   
  


“Oh, good,” he said. “And here I thought you had some remorse. But I guess a traitor wouldn't,” he shrugged, “that's why curses work in the first place!”

  
“What?” Robert breathed, eyes narrowing in concern.   
  


“What?” Monica whispered, her eyes widening as she huddled back into her lover, maybe realizing suddenly that it wasn't so safe there after all.   
  


Harry grinned happily. “Oh, see, if you don't do what you promised and keep pretending to be what you’re not, well...” Harry tilted his head and gave a laughing shrug. “ _ Well _ , you'll find out! I don't think someone as selfish as you will last long, so I probably shouldn't ruin the surprise!”

  
“Y-you, you're a monster!” she cried, and she turned to hide her face in the vampire's chest, soaking his shirt with tears. Robert glared at him, fangs exposed in a fierce grimace.

  
Harry shook his head at them and turned back to the door. “No,” he replied as he walked out, “I'm a witch!”

 


End file.
